Sadly,  I never know what day it is.

I worked for many years in the mental health field.  One of the ways mental health workers use to see if a patient is oriented in time is to ask him/her what day it is.  I’d have flunked that because I might be within two or three days of the week but never knew the exact date.  I always feared if I ever were placed in a mental institution, I’d be kept until, somehow, I chanced to hit the day correctly.

Before I retired, I knew I worked Monday through Friday.  Therefore, if I was at work, it had to be one of those days.  I knew I went to church on Sunday.  Check.

But now that I’m retired, I don’t have anything constant in a week except for Sunday.  My writers’ group used to meet on the second Tuesday.  Now, with our present meeting place and conflicts with scheduling, the date hops around.  Fortunately, the person I ride with knows when we meet and reminds me.  Thanks, Kristin!

Yesterday (which was Tuesday), I asked our associate minister when I could make a call on a member.  She said Tuesday and Thursdays are hard for her to make hospital calls.  So I told her, “I’ll make the call tomorrow,” which did not help her schedule at all.    Fortunately, she understands the tangle my brain can be.  I’m making the visit tomorrow–which is, I believe, Thursday.

I’ve set Tuesday as my main blog day but didn’t post yesterday because–you guessed it–I thought yesterday was Monday.  So here is the blog, a day late but here.

What do you forget?  I like to know.  It makes me feel I’m not alone.