Wait--What Day Is It?

It has been a long week--or week and a half--or three days. Attempting to live in the worlds of news and TV and college admissions and homemaking, sometimes, it's a little hard to tell how many hours have passed and when one day has turned into another and exactly where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to think at any given moment.
 
This should matter--the blending of days, the lost track of exactly where I am in a week. And yet, it has become so standard that as long as I make sure I show up where I'm supposed to and kids are picked up when they're supposed to be, I have stopped letting the meanings of days phase me too much.
 
What, after all, is the meaning of a day, as long as you are doing good or important things with it? What, after all, does it matter what time it is, as long as you are doing what you want or need to do? What I am learning, in my increasingly mashed up life, is to follow what needs to be done, rather than following the calendar. What I am learning, in this life that seems to change daily, is to look at my goals, rather than looking at my watch.
 
There will certainly be times when I need to know exactly what day it is. But on the other days, I just have to hope that getting through whatever hours of whatever day it happens to be is quite enough.