Jul 17 2008
What Day is it Anyway?
I never know what day of the week it is anymore.
It’s one of the side-effects of being on a summer schedule, along with unpredictable bed times, a shortage of snack food, and the boredom blight.
Normally I look at my pink digital Timex and it tells me not only the time to the second but also the date, day of the week, and a five day weather forecast. I’m kidding about that last bit. Really though, my watch keeps me current. Rather, kept me current. 
After our little beach bash yesterday, my dependable takes-a-licking Timex, which is supposedly water resistant, started to fade. The digits on its face faintly visible in the flourescent lights of my bathroom. I was shaken, needless to say.
I need my watch. I. Need. It. Since becoming a mom, I’ve had this compulsive need to keep time. I’m sure it started with the scheduled on the clock baby feedings, but it gradually progressed into a full fledged obsession. I need to mark my days by hours and minutes. If one of my kids wakes me up at 3:09 in the morning with a nightmare, I need to be able to relate that particular detail to my husband when I complain about him being able to sleep through a train wreck. If we’re out and about, how will I know it’s lunch time if I can’t look at my watch and verify. A kid’s rumbling stomach is not a reliable guage, you know?
I do have clocks scattered willy nilly through the house - the computer, the TVs, even the microwave are all smart enough to tell me what time it is. But can they remind me what day of the week it is, can they tell me the date at a glance?
Maybe, but that’s not the point. They don’t Indiglo in the dark. That’s the point. The point is I need a wrist reference, something close and intimate, a time-keeping friend at arm’s reach.
I need a watch, lest that white strip of skin on my otherwise tan arm start to even out. Then I’d lose all sense of myself, wouldn’t I?
Probably not. I’ll go out and see if a new battery will remedy the situation. If not, I’ll get an affordable yet stylish new watch. Because every mom needs to be able to see the minutes of her life melting away before her eyes. Well, maybe not that, but she should definitely be able to tell people when it’s Thursday. You don’t want anyone to miss an episode of Last Comic Standing.
