On Saturday, I texted my friend Molly: If you're here tomorrow, come over to my house for games and beer.
She texted back: What time? Can Chris come?
I replied: 6pm. Chris is always welcome at the Wheaton Secret Headquarters!
Yesterday, while we were at my friend's house for his birthday dinner, Molly texted Anne to find out where we were.
"Did you tell Molly and Chris to come over today?" She asked.
"No, I said Monday, when Robert is coming over."
"She thinks it's today."
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked back through my text messages.
"...um." I said.
"You'd better call her," Anne said.
I called Molly and explained to her that my stupid brain thought Saturday was Sunday and that tomorrow was not, in fact today, but was actually tomorrow (which is now today).
"I'm so sorry. Can you come back tomorrow?" I asked.
"Yeah, I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow at six."
And that is why, when I got home from my friend's house last night, I found this drawing on my front porch:
