For many people today is monday. They will go out to work, and by now have spent about two hours believing themselves to be doing their job. The other hour has been spent staring. In an hour they will go and eat, then stare for another hour, and then they will accomplish something. Tomorrow, on tuesday, they will make some radical advances, and then most of the rest of the week will be coasting.
Now, for me.
Saturday was on saturday. Actually, they don't make saturdays like that anymore. I saw old friends, hung out, did stuff. Ate out. Spent less than expected, and enjoyed my day. Showed off a little, was impressed a lot. Like when you go to some show with your family and want to be a business and buy everything.
Yesterday didn't exist. It was a non-day. If it had been a sunday, I would have maybe gone to a museum. Sat near dinosaurs or geodes and read a book. But instead I did nothing, except for fix the DVD section and put out new releases. These things never happened, in my life. The Chronicles of Idd will not recall them.
In a couple of days, probably on a tuesday, I will remember that I watched Team America, and enjoyed it. It was clever, behind its incredible immaturity.
I will maybe remember that I went to the shop and bought tea.
But for now, it is sunday. A proper sunday, where I get up too early for a day where I went to bed too late. Where my stomach is gurgles, and it takes me until the afternoon to realise that I should have breakfast. Where I will accomplish nothing once more, but nothings that I will remember and treasure.
Today is a sunday because of these, and because I am chewing on fibres from my dressing gown. Because I should get some more sleep, but I'm not going to. Because if I try to tidy my space, I'll end up reading an old magazine cover to cover, or playing on the speccy. Or playing my guitar, without making up anything new.
Maybe I'll go to a museum.