What Day Is Today?
Thursday morning my father had an ophthalmic appointment at one of the three hospitals in Santiago de Compostela. It was a routine appointment for treatment of a problem in one of his eyes at 11:50. It was an awkward time for lunch, though good in the sense that no one had to get up extra early.
We leave an hour before, to allow around twenty minutes for the trip, ten or fifteen minutes for parking and some time to sit until we're tired of sitting. When we arrive, I drop him off at the front door, and I go searching for a parking space. There are many cars, and few spaces. I go to my usual spot and find an empty space on a lawn. (Necessity is the mother of invention; whatever open space isn't cordoned off is free game for parking.) Five minutes later, I meet him in the front hall and we go upstairs. I go to the receptionist with the appointment slip. The secretary takes it, checks the name, and gives it back to me. Suddenly, she asks me for the slip again. She checks it against the computer and tells me, "This appointment is for Friday, January 27th."
I reply, "Yes, it's for today."
"No, it's for tomorrow. You're a day early."
Nooo!
We come back home.
Friday morning the routine repeats itself, only this time a car is pulling out as I near the front door to drop off my father. I grab it and we walk the very short distance. We're sitting in the waiting room by 11:30. But the visits to this department are anything but fast and we finally leave at around 1:45.
My problem with the date stemmed from the calendar. When we got back home on Thursday, I looked at it again. The appointment was written correctly in the block for Friday, January 27th. But the block was on what I considered the "Thursday" block. For the past eleven years I have been ordering a calendar from the U.S. with images of Boston and Massachusetts for each month. The week began with Sunday and ended with Saturday, just as they did all during my childhood and adolescence. It was the calendar format I had grown up with. Looking at it, I automatically knew what day of the week I was looking at.
This year, however, I didn't order an American calendar. I kept putting it off, until, just before Christmas, I realized I needed a calendar, so I bought a European one, in six different languages. It has a page and image for each month, and each day is a block where I can write in appointments and reminders. The problem is that the week begins with Monday and ends with Sunday. Each day is moved over one block. So, when I look at a date, I have to remember to make the adjustment of moving the day over one block. When I looked to check for the appointment, my mind hadn't done so. It saw the appointment in the Thursday block when it was really the Friday block. Aaarrgh!
At least we were mistaken a day early, and not a day late, so there was no need for rescheduling. If that had been the case, the new appointment would have been in late spring!
We leave an hour before, to allow around twenty minutes for the trip, ten or fifteen minutes for parking and some time to sit until we're tired of sitting. When we arrive, I drop him off at the front door, and I go searching for a parking space. There are many cars, and few spaces. I go to my usual spot and find an empty space on a lawn. (Necessity is the mother of invention; whatever open space isn't cordoned off is free game for parking.) Five minutes later, I meet him in the front hall and we go upstairs. I go to the receptionist with the appointment slip. The secretary takes it, checks the name, and gives it back to me. Suddenly, she asks me for the slip again. She checks it against the computer and tells me, "This appointment is for Friday, January 27th."
I reply, "Yes, it's for today."
"No, it's for tomorrow. You're a day early."
Nooo!
We come back home.
Friday morning the routine repeats itself, only this time a car is pulling out as I near the front door to drop off my father. I grab it and we walk the very short distance. We're sitting in the waiting room by 11:30. But the visits to this department are anything but fast and we finally leave at around 1:45.
My problem with the date stemmed from the calendar. When we got back home on Thursday, I looked at it again. The appointment was written correctly in the block for Friday, January 27th. But the block was on what I considered the "Thursday" block. For the past eleven years I have been ordering a calendar from the U.S. with images of Boston and Massachusetts for each month. The week began with Sunday and ended with Saturday, just as they did all during my childhood and adolescence. It was the calendar format I had grown up with. Looking at it, I automatically knew what day of the week I was looking at.
This year, however, I didn't order an American calendar. I kept putting it off, until, just before Christmas, I realized I needed a calendar, so I bought a European one, in six different languages. It has a page and image for each month, and each day is a block where I can write in appointments and reminders. The problem is that the week begins with Monday and ends with Sunday. Each day is moved over one block. So, when I look at a date, I have to remember to make the adjustment of moving the day over one block. When I looked to check for the appointment, my mind hadn't done so. It saw the appointment in the Thursday block when it was really the Friday block. Aaarrgh!
At least we were mistaken a day early, and not a day late, so there was no need for rescheduling. If that had been the case, the new appointment would have been in late spring!
The calendar of discord. |
The calendar I am used to. |
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