As an EMT, I’ll ask my patients what day it is (among other things) in order to gauge how oriented they are. The irony of this, of course, is that most of the time I’m not one hundred percent sure myself. Part of that is the weird schedule I keep– no Monday through Friday work for me. Part of that is the weird timelessness that has come about with all the lockdowns etc. during the pandemic. And, sure, part of it is the truth that I haven’t felt all that tethered to exactly what day of the week it is since finishing college. Then again, it’s been even worse for the last few weeks as my schedule shifted temporarily during the holidays.
Every so often, though, it extends beyond that, and I’ll catch myself wondering what time of year it is. Usually after I accidentally listen to a Christmas song in July or watch some movie that is decidedly set in the summer while it’s still January in the real world. In the past I’ve blamed this on the fact that I grew up with four proper seasons, suggesting that living in California without them has low-key tilted my internal clock. But at this point, I can honestly say that I could see myself momentarily forgetting what season it is even if a blizzard was raging outside, so there’s that.
There’s no deeper meaning to any of this that I want to draw out. I just find it interesting and vaguely amusing. Does anyone else catch themselves forgetting what day, month, or year it is?
F.A. Hakimian 