I blame Christmas. It was all over the place this year. Being a freelance doesn't help. But I suddenly have NO IDEA WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK IT IS.
This morning I was having a lovely Sunday lie-in with the cat. Only it's Friday. I should know this. Despite the fact that I was out last night and said "It's lovely doing stuff on a Wednesday," only to be told "Well, it's Thursday."
I'm not normally this bad. I need to buy a calendar. That will help (although now Borders has gone under, where will I find my discount Kittens 2010?).
It could also be the weather, I guess. Facebook is full of people snowed in. Gritting stops at the congestion charge, so King's Cross has been converted into St Pancras On Ice, meaning that the British Library is no longer in walking distance. It took 20 minutes yesterday, shuffling like a geisha on a frozen duck pond.
In good news, I've sawn up the Christmas Tree and discovered it burns like Chinese New Year.