Dearie, me.

When I woke up this morning I though sure it was Wednesday...I hate when that happens, because before all the fog has left my brain, the first thing I do is try to remember what day yesterday was, so I know what today is.  I kind of go through the repertoire of that day's activities.  Like, Monday is trash day.  Did I put the trash out?  Or, What TV show did I watch last nigh...oh yeah, that show is on Monday Night.

You know, that kind of thing.  Since the snow storm, the days have all been the same.
We are pretty much house bound, and one day has been a duplicate of the previous one.  Hence, my confusion this morning.

I yanked open the drapes hoping I would see ground, soggy as it might be.  Nope, same old, same old, tired, sickly looking white stuff everywhere.  Yuck!  Oh, it's shrunk quite a bit, but it's still to deep, (and slippery) now for Zorro to venture into it.  All the while I'm thinking, "What the heck day is this."  Its got to be Wednesday.

I pull open the living room drapes, there's my trash bin at the curb.  Oh, it must be Monday.  No...that's not right.  Didn't I get a call from the trash company saying something about no pick-up.  Ahhhhhhhhh.  What's my can doing at the curb?  Oh, I remember putting it there yesterday afternoon.  But yesterday was not Sunday...or, was it.

Dang!

Don't panic old woman.  You'll figure this out.  And, of course I do.  It's Tuesday.  There were two calls from the trash company, one a couple of days ago telling us that our recycle drivers were going to pick up the slack for the folks who missed their pick up day on Friday, and then a call yesterday afternoon saying they would pick up our neighborhood today.  And, that they were very, very sorry for any inconvenience they might have caused us.  Little do they know.

You should have seen me trying to get my can to the curb yesterday afternoon.  Dragging it through, inches and inches of snow.  Especially since my main concern was trying to stay on my feet.  Finally, after much ado and trash can wobbling I achieved my objective.  I kind of ground it down through the snow so that it would not lose its balance and topple over, spill its continence into the street making a meal for the local coyotes.

Then, I remembered we'd not had mail since Thursday, and the good ole' mailman eventually appeared at my box.  Another sign yesterday was Monday...after all when the most excitement you have is the trip to your box for an arm load of catalogs...
you tend to remember how many days you did NOT make the trip.  I could tell the guy did not have his heart in his job yesterday because I got two electric bills.  Mine and my neighbor's.  As I was handing her the bill I told her I was a generous person, but it was winter, and she'd have to pay her own.  We both had a good laugh over that. 

So, I finally have it clear in my mind that yesterday was Monday, today IS Tuesday, and everything is copasetic. 

I guess it doesn't matter the name of the day of the week, we only need to know that, and to quote Craig Ferguson... "Tomorrow just your future yesterday."