Uh, what day is it?

So, I'm driving down the M5 motorway down to Truro in Cornwall to my next host's place when there came a not so sudden realization that there is something a bit off about the whole situation.  I talked to my host the night before and made sure everything was still in order.  I got up this morning and headed to pick up my rental car around 10:30, just after my host Erich went to work-- just like we have discussed we would do many times.  It took a bit longer than I expected because the rental place in central Bath was actually 2 miles from the center of Bath and Olga walked with me there.  That was a good thing too, because I would have never found it.  I dropped Olga off afterwards, grabbed my bags and took off for Truro.  

I had the radio on as I was headed south and I heard the over-talkative DJ say something with the word Friday in it.  Strange, I thought, being that it was Saturday. So I just thought perhaps he was talking about something he did the day before, especially since I wasn't really paying attention.  

Then I heard the word Friday again, but again I didn't know what they were talking about.  But then I got to thinking about what day it really was. 

You see where this is going?

Erich had mentioned that he had to work on Saturday at 10 and he was free on Friday. Last night he said that he had to work the next morning at 10, so I got confused and thought that it was Saturday and just carried on with that day's plans.  Now with frantic doubt at hand, I called my next host to see what day I said I said I was coming.  Thank goodness she didn't answer right away.  I called Olga up and she said to come on back.  

I turned around and on my way back I stopped in a cheesy tourist town called Cheddar.  I took the tour of the Cheddar Gorge and caves and bought a small wheel of Cheddar to bring back for dinner.  

My mantra for tonight will be: Tomorrow is Saturday.  Tomorrow is Saturday.  Tomorrow is Saturday.