What Day Is It?

I don't know if I could live this close to paradise. I tend to lose track of the days when I am at the beach. Dressing in real clothes is also a problem - my father once went to a funeral visitation in his shorts and tennis shoes (he told me they were his good ones), and he told me he wasn't the only one. My father still hasn't turned the calendar around to June. So, don't cry for me, Argentina, but I am confused, sunburned, and finally, well-rested. The water sucks - you know beach water - but other than that - all is well.