Chapter 1
Today is Saturday, the last day of the week. Some would disagree with that, of course. Christian folk for example! They would point out and debate the issue until they were blue in the face that Sunday is the last day of the week. And with just cause to their way of thinking, after all, God rested on the seventh day, the Sabbath, following His creation of the heavens and the Earth. And I suppose a fair proportion of my generation, the baby-boomers, would disagree also if they thought about it, old habits die hard, you see. As for generations X, Y, and whatever, I don’t think they think about it all, and if they do they don’t care one way or the other. I’m sure the greater majority doesn’t think about it, either, if it comes to that, or care one way or the other if they do. Why should they? It’s not important! It doesn’t matter! And right now I wished I hadn’t mentioned it.
Why did I mention it? Well, the general consensus these days (besides no one thinks about it and doesn’t care one way or the other) is that that is actually true and Saturday is indeed the last day of the week, and I for one don’t mind that concept at all. I like the idea that I end my working week with a day off, and then I have another day off before I begin my new working week next week. I’m also going to mention that I wasn’t sure it was Saturday when I woke earlier. Fact is, I actually got out of bed and started to dress for work thinking it was Friday. I do that sometimes these days. Not often, just once in a while. I’m not as young as I used to be, you see, so maybe I can be forgiven for that. I think I can also be forgiven too for waking up early on most mornings because of my age.
I’m sixty-two, and more often than not I wake at least once in the wee small hours because I need to relieve myself. Sometimes that need is so overwhelming; that I wake in fright because I think I’ve actually started. It hasn’t happened as yet, but it’s only a matter of time the way things are going. I’m also given to bouts of forgetfulness and just can’t for the life of me remember some things. Even when I’m totally convinced about something, sometimes, that something, sometimes, tends not to stay in my head but for the briefest of periods and I have to convince myself all over again. A good part of some days are spent doing that. Today, Saturday, might even be one of those days. And I know its Saturday because yesterday was Friday, although I wasn’t sure until I checked the television guide, and even then I wasn’t sure until I turned on the television.
What happens, you see, is that I forget to turn the page or pages, so what I’m looking at may inform me that it’s a Wednesday when it’s actually a Friday, or a Tuesday when it’s a Thursday, or, well, you get what I mean. When I looked at the programme guide this morning it told me it was Saturday, but just to make sure I turned on the television and what was on coincided with the listing. That isn’t always the case though, is it? Sometimes the programme guide will list a particular show and it won’t be televised, and that’s when I can become really confused. I could boot up a computer and take advantage of the very latest updates, but I don’t have one of those, and if I did I’d probably be even more confused.
