Come morning, the days puddle and pool like mercury on a Formica table top.
Is it more important that today is Friday or that somehow Thursday got lost along the unraveling of the week? I really don't know. Things slip and slide and refuse to be wrapped for placement under whatever this Christmas tree called existence might be.
Would it make a difference if I knew? Does it matter if I don't? The only thing that seems discommoded is this Boy Scout insistence on being "prepared."