Since when have there been seven days in a week?

I have found myself completely unable to tell what day of the week it is.  At least I’m not alone.  I told Mom today I would check on something Tuesday, thinking today was Saturday, even though I went to work today and complained about it  being Monday several times.  Probably.  That’s something I’ve been known to do.  I’m sure I did it today.  Unless it was last Monday…  Mom thought it was Tuesday all day.  I talked to Jess yesterday, and she was convinced (or at least hoped) it was Saturday.  It’s probably just wishful thinking, like my dream last night that I was eating brownies and cake with whipped cream and strawberries.  (Oh how I want that.)  Let’s continue to assume it’s wishful thinking and not the deterioration of my brain.

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