Regular readers will know that I have, over the years, had more trouble than most with when. I am good at how, what, why and where but as someone who used to write winter text in summer and vice versa I often became confused as to why it wasn't snowing in July when I took a coffee break.
This week has been disorientating. To begin with, any week that begins with a Bank Holiday Monday makes Tuesday feel like Monday and this confusion moves on by the day.
Then our church leadership team went away for 24 hours, Tuesday to Wednesday, so the marker of a Tuesday afternoon team meeting was lost. On Wednesday morning we noted that the Morning Prayer booklets we had taken with us did not, for complicated reasons, include Wednesday. As three of us take Friday as a day off we decided to use Friday Morning prayer on Wednesday.
Now there were good reasons for Wednesday to be either Tuesday or Friday.
I had gig tickets for Thursday night and so the last Thursday of the month invitation to a bunch of people for supper was moved a day early. They came on Wednesday. As I clear up afterwards and sit down with a glass of wine I usually look forward to my day off the next day. But the next day wasn't my day off. Thursday was, in my mind, either Friday, Wednesday or Saturday. Saying Morning Prayer for a Thursday would have helped but I forgot my glasses.
I am posting this in the hope that I will shortly realise it is actually Saturday and then manage to drag my scrawny, tired, over-stimulated body to church tomorrow at the correct venue. Tonight we have tickets for Comedy of Errors. Apt eh? Good morning.