I think it’s Saturday. It may not be, and if it turns out that I’m wrong and it’s not Saturday, I won’t be surprised at all, because as bad as my ability to tell what day it is has been damaged by my prolonged period of not going to work, this weird thing where now the boy is on vacation too and my wife is having random four-day weekends is just completely screwing with me.
That cup up there is my coffee cup. There are others like it, but this one is mine. The crayon is included for scale. That coffee cup is so large that it’s actually difficult to hold one-handed; it needs a second handle. It holds an enormous volume of coffee. Sugar is added to it via multiple scoops of the largest spoon we have.
I have lost track of the amount of coffee I’ve consumed this morning and I still do not feel remotely human. I think at some point in the last couple of days, maybe more than one of them, Christmas was celebrated in the homes of various relatives, but most of it is a blur. There is only The Couch for me today, or at least there will be once I decide there has been enough coffee.
So, yeah. If we were having coffee, I doubt I’d be fully cognizant that you were in the room. That kind of morning.
It’s 1:00 PM.