The only rational explanation for thinking it's the wrong day

You know that sensation when you keep thinking it's the wrong day? 

There may have been a time loop incident yesterday. The whole day yesterday, it felt like Friday.

Had I already lived Thursday, and so my body knew it was Friday, but my mind (and everyone else's, except for the inevitable protagonist's) was erased of the memory, and so we all thought it was Thursday? 

Pictured: What really happened yesterday.
(Then the kid in green came by and shot it with arrows.
In the eye. Because the fairy told him to.)

Somewhere out there is a wandering soul trying to restore our memories of the past, or else an unknown hero who saved us from destruction by rewinding time and then made a tiny, simple change that will prevent the end of the known universe. Only there are those of us who, due to lingering magic, secondary character roles, strong wills, or being too unimportant to be worth the effort of thorough body memory erasure, still have echo of that lost day in our systems.

This is the only rational explanation. So to that unsung, unknown hero out there: Some of us almost remember. Some of us toast to your not-memory, thanking you for saving us. Even if we don't know how or who you are.

And, whenever you feel like it's a day the calendar disagrees with, know that somewhere out there, our lives have just been saved. Or maybe stolen by a supervillain. Hard to tell, really.

Maybe there's a secret villain using our lost time, right now, to power her mad machinations of universe domination. (You can be sure a hero will be along shortly to save the universe, if so, but I wouldn't plan on getting that day back. Besides, it was probably horrible and terrifying. You wouldn't want it anyway.)

Have a lovely, not-so-serious Friday! Or maybe Saturday...? ;)