Oh come on! Like you've not woken up out of the alcoholic haze, taken the duvet off while simultaneously upending the full ashtrays and after that one glorious perfect moment of not having the faintest clue of who you are or what existence is, have reality crash into you.
So there you are standing there wiping the drool off the corner of your mouth, desperately trying to remember how to put one foot in front of the other to relieve the ever more persistent sensation that you've traced to really needing the toilet (for one of many reasons) and someone, someone asks you what day it is.
Look, I've just climbed back on whatever dancing pony drives this sh**show. Don't be asking questions like that and expecting a correct, no more than that, a sensible answer until at least my 5th coffee.
Or is that just me?