When I opened a used bookstore several years ago, I knew I’d need some days off, but I also knew I needed to be open on at least one weekend day. I ended up closing the store on Sundays and Mondays and spent the next few years never knowing what day of the week it was.

TGIF lost all meaning and I was always a day late turning on “Monday Night Football.”  Starting my work week on Tuesday kept me perpetually disoriented. 

It was a little like how I feel much of the time in Mexico. 

Take mums, for instance. They’re a fall flower in the Midwest. You put them out on your front porch in September and you throw them away in November — their fading flowers your yearly reminder that it’s time to take that twenty pound turkey out to thaw.

Well, I arrived in Mexico in August, bought my mums in September, and what happened? They were still blooming in December and we had ham for Thanksgiving.

Which wasn’t so bad since I really like ham. It’s just that mums aren’t the only problem. Marigolds showed up in October, making me think I needed to plant my annuals. And last weekend, I saw two pushcarts full of blooming tulips — which sent me off on a search for jelly beans and Easter baskets. 

Not that there’s much chance that I’ll recognize Easter when it actually does show up since I’m just as confused about my months as I am about my gardening.

What’s with the coldest months being November and December? The hottest ones being April and May? And the rainy season coming in July and August? Hasn’t anyone here heard the saying, “April showers bring May flowers”?

I tell you, it’s enough to make me throw in my sun visor. Although I guess it does help explain why I’ve been wearing shorts and a T-shirts the last few months when everyone else has been walking around in down jackets and wool hats. I’ve been so disoriented I failed to realize it was winter. 

“What’s it like living in Mexico?” everyone asked when I was back in Illinois. 

“It’s a lot like closing your bookstore on Mondays.”