Loosing Track of Time

Now that the morning ritual of getting kids ready for school is over, I have completely lost track of the days.

For the past one year, Tuesday and Thursday were sports kit days at school. Monday and Wednesday, regular uniform days, Friday was half day and Saturday and Sunday were the days I could enjoy the luxury of extending my hand toward the bedside table to shut off the six o clock morning alarm and resuming my much deserved beauty sleep. Now with the commencement of summer holidays all those indicators of “which day of the week it is” are suddenly gone, leaving my biological clock in complete disarray.

Up till yesterday I was still on Sunday while the world around me had moved on to Tuesday.

My father says prisoner kept in isolation under go similar disorientation. They scratch marks on the wall to keep record of days gone by and even that is only possible if their cells allow any glimpse of the rising and setting sun.
(Only an ex-military guy like my father could have come up with an example like that.)

So what does that signify; that my mental alertness is even lower than those poor unfortunate souls in solitary confinement?

Unlike those prisoners, I not only have full view of rising and setting sun, (also the midday sun, if I care to look at it, which I don’t. It is hot enough as it is without staring into that burning orb of fire overhead) I also have clocks and calendars fixed on walls in more than one room of the house.

I guess its time to wind up the old timepieces and start referring to them for accurate indication of time and date if I want to remain in the same time zone as the rest of my surroundings for the next three months.