The local Fox affiliate (I think) in Cleveland has perfectly captured the vibe of this national experience. They started a new segment last week, called "What Day Is This?" It has a cute little graphic, and zippy 1970s game show music. The weatherman or reporter (I don't know which) points at his green screen and delivers a deadpan line. "It's Wednesday." Music resumes.
I have managed to keep track of the days of the week, for the most part. The date, however, is absolutely lost to me. If I didn't still have bills due and occasional appointments that weren't canceled, I'd give up on all of it. What's the point of tracking the date through April? Just tell me when it is May. Days of that month matter to me, if only to know who wins the baby pool.
The Mr had to go out today. On his errands, he got us more crickets to feed the lizards, and while he was that close (less than a football field away), he made a little detour into the Lowes garden center. When he got back home (with french fries in hand for me, bless him), he pointed to something he left on the porch. He acquired two tulips and a hyacinth that begged to come home with him. And so it begins.
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