“Doesn’t it feel like Sunday?” asked Mary Ellen a couple of weeks ago.
“Yes, come to think of it, it does seem like a Sunday, even though it’s Saturday. Why do you ask?”
“Dick, it’s just less confusing if we both feel like it’s the same day, even though it’s the wrong day.”
That night as we were watching TV, I asked Mary Ellen if it wasn’t time for 60 Minutes. “It’s Saturday, Dick. 60 Minutes is on tomorrow night.”
“Oh, that’s right, it just feels like Sunday. Then why did Brett come for dinner tonight? He always comes over on Sunday night. That’s what’s confusing me.”
“I know. I keep thinking me missed our Zoom church service this morning. But it’s tomorrow. That’s the last time we feed our son on a Saturday.”
“So, Mary Ellen, when should I do my laundry—when it IS Sunday or when it feels like Sunday?”
“Consider this, Dick: If you do your laundry on a Saturday, it will feel like Sunday and then the next day you’ll think it’s Monday, and you’ll be out of sync the rest of the week.”
I then asked Mary Ellen what our plans were for the next few days. “We have something fun on Monday at noon. We are going to have a picnic in the park with Bob and Cathy. Looks like it will be beautiful weather.”
We got to the park on time at noon that day, but Bob and Cathy hadn’t shown up so I called to see if they were on their way. “Bob, where are you? You’re never late. We’re here, waiting.”
“Dick, today is Sunday. Our picnic is Monday. Although, for some reason it does feel like a Monday. I wonder why that is?”
“Maybe you knew that Brett came to dinner at our house Saturday night instead of Sunday. But today IS Monday. So this happens to you guys, too?”
“All the time. A couple of weekends ago, for example, we stayed up until 11:30 to watch Saturday Night Live because it felt like Saturday all day, but it was really Friday. Actually, it was Good Friday. That should have been a clue that it wasn’t Saturday.”
The end of April, we are planning to visit our friends the Murphys, in Martinsville, but it’s about an hour’s drive, so I called to be sure we were all on the same page. “Jane, it’s Dick. We are supposed to visit you and have dinner in a couple weeks, correct?”
“Yes, Wednesday the 28th. Why? Is that a bad night for you?”
“Well, we always watch Chicago PD Wednesday nights at 10. Never miss it. If we record the show and come to your house that night, then we will have to watch it on Thursday night and then all day Friday we’ll think it’s Thursday.”
John and Jane were very understanding. They changed the dinner date to the following Sunday so the days in the rest of the week would seem right. Sunday will now feel like Sunday… as long as the Murphys invite Brett for dinner, too.
