When I awoke this past Saturday (in the afternoon) I was certain it was Sunday and no one could persuade me otherwise. It just felt like a Sunday. So for me, it was Sunday.
While drinking my coffee, to help bring my senses into some form of alignment, I began to contemplate the possibility that it may be Saturday, and if so, what were the advantages of it being so?
It all began on Friday – the confusion.
The Memory grid hadn’t been tweaked for a while, and going from Point A to Point B, was nearly impossible. Friday felt like Saturday, so it was perfectly natural for me to conclude that Saturday was in fact Sunday.
The advantages of it being Saturday were enormous, however. It meant I still had time to make it to the art supply store, since it stayed open later on Saturdays than on Sundays. That was my incentive to hustle.
But as the Moon made its appearance in the sky before I set foot on the street, I was doomed.