In SAH, WFH, how do you know it's Saturday?

Saturday.  You know it's Saturday, right?

For reasons that have been obscured with time, I have studied Daniel Defoe's Journal of a Plague Year.  Written in 1722 about the 1665 plague in London -- when Defoe was 5.  In other words, he fudged a lot of the contemporary feeling of the "journal."

I wonder what they'll think 57 years from now reading about our pandemic months.  I mean, they'll see pictures of crowds, not social distancing, carrying AR-15s, with signs with swastikas, protesting that they don't have the freedom to...to...I actually saw one tweet pushing the opening of golf courses (which are somewhat open in some states).

But it's Saturday.

It's getting to be a struggle to track that.

How do you know it's Saturday?

First, you sleep in.  There's no "I gotta be up" to...no alarm.  Alexa isn't playing that call to action it does other mornings.

Don't do that?  Okay, let's be more subtle.

1) you don't have the usual for breakfast.  Right? 
2) you watch something different on TV -- not Morning Joe, not Fox and Friends, but instead maybe CBS Weekend Saturday. 
3)  you listen to Wait, Wait, Don't Tell (it's Saturday) on NPR.  Clearly, this is for a certain artsy reader, OC.
4) You actually do that exercise you haven't had time to do.
5) You watch sports.   Okay, I lied.  You don't watch sports.  It's reruns.  Were they showing Ohio State-Michigan?  Why do we care to see Michigan lose (which it has the last X years)?
6)  There's no "briefing" from the White House or the Governor.  Oh.  Never mind.
7) The dog or cat acts like you are acting wrong and you've messed up their schedule.

It's really tricky, isn't it?  But it's not 1665 London.  It's not even 1918 USA.  We can do this.  We can stay in our sweatpants (see yesterday's blog), we can keep eating and putting on weight, we can keep using Zoom like it's no longer annoying more than interesting. 

Tomorrow will be Sunday.  It'll be so different, right?  Right?  Right?