They say that today is Thursday.

Except, so far as I am concerned, it’s still Wednesday.

You see, many years ago I discovered a rather clever technique. As the evening rolls on, I go to bed and fall asleep. Then when I wake up, it’s a new day. I find this to be a remarkably efficient way of separating one day from the next. Quite ingenious? Leastwise it has stood me in good stead for as long as I remember. It never fails.

Except when it fails.

Last night I went to bed. As is normal I started reading.

I read some more.

And some more.

Then I got a bit tired of reading without being tired, if you know what I mean. At around four or so I got up and wandered into the conservatory and watched the sun rise over yonder hill – a great fiery red ball . It was actually quite pretty. I watched Boots [neighbour’s cat] trying to stalk a magpie. The magpie was no fool and did a dance around the cat chattering out his alarm call. Boots didn’t cop on that he’d been spotted and continued stalking. Boots is an idiot. I went back to bed.

I finished my book.

I tried closing my eyes but it was getting too bright and anyway I wasn’t sleepy.. Leastwise I didn’t sleep and got bored with trying. I got up and got dressed.

So there you have it. The last time I woke up it was Wednesday and seeing as that day never officially ended, It’s still Wednesday.

I don’t care what the rest of the world says.