Every Olympics, I write this post. So I’ll spare you all reading the extended version again. It’s the one about the faceless, nameless “days” we spend covering the Games. No events on Wednesday? That feels like a Saturday. Two events on Sunday? That must be Tuesday. Every year, there comes a point where none of us have any idea what day it is, we all believe it’s a day other than it is and so we answer the most popular question we receive each day, “What day is today?” inaccurately and perpetuate the problem.
Today was that day.
After a pretty late night covering men’s ski halfpipe finals, I got to sleep sometime after 5 this morning. When I woke up, I was sure it was Thursday and women’s halfpipe finals were tonight. But as I was trolling through Instagram, I realized my feed wasn’t filled with photos of my friends 10 years younger than they are now doing the coolest thing they’ve done in a decade. So it couldn’t be Throwback Thursday. Then, at lunch, I heard someone say it was Tuesday, and I corrected myself. Tuesday made more sense, but it also made me sad because I realized I had now taken two steps back on the Closing Ceremony board game.
At some point, certainly after a freakout or two, I realized it was, in fact, Wednesday. And I started preparing for Thursday.