As the third week unfolds, I find myself, much like at home, trying to understand,“What day is it?” It’s a normal occurrence for someone my age, but here, the beautiful weather is the real culprit. Since every day seems to follow the same script—cool, crisp mornings followed by bright, warm, postcard-perfect sunshine in the afternoon—time has truly lost all meaning. I suspect I might be living in some kind of highly enjoyable, sun-drenched "Groundhog Day."