Normally I do grocery shopping on Tuesdays and Fridays. New books are released on late Thursday (my time) or Friday. Last week I dropped two books on Tuesday and went shopping, which led me brain to believe that it was Friday, so I spent all day Wednesday thinking that it was Saturday. What even is time?
Then I released another book on Thursday, but I also had a one-off errand to run so I went grocery shopping when I was out. That led to me thinking that Friday was Saturday. I mean that not just in the casual “what’s the date today” sort of way, but in the visceral “weekends have a completely different vibe than weekends” way.
Both times I not only though that it was Saturday, I believed that the following day was 1 August. When actual Saturday arrived, I kept thinking that the next day was 1 August. It was mildly freaky, but mostly the sensation was very mellow and peaceful. If I’m losing my mind, at least it seems to be pleasant.
In truth, it does make sense. I work from home 7 days a week, so there is little distinction between days. Laundry day, grocery trips, and new releases are my only benchmarks. I’ve been doing a lot of planning for the weeks ahead, so I’ve been creating task lists and booking appointments for the month of August. There are some blog posts that have been pre-written and scheduled for next month.
It’s also the season of the Midnight Sun. Even though it’s been slowly getting a bit darker in the wee hours, sunrise today was at 4:12 am and sunset will be at 10:37 pm, and it still won’t be completely dark. That messes with your senses of time, too.
All of which drives home the importance of routines. I need those anchors, no matter how trivial they are. While I needed to get those books out early because money, and it was more efficient to go shopping since I was already out and about, it really messed me up.