It started on a Tuesday.

You knew it was Tuesday because Cindy Campbell had burst into your room at 8:07 a.m. sharp, holding two iced coffees and grinning like she’d just invented caffeine.

“Morning! I got your favorite — double shot, extra whip, sprinkle of cinnamon, and a dash of—” she stopped, squinting at the cup. “—whatever this brown stuff is. I think it’s sugar.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Cindy.”

She plopped down next to you. “Big day today! We have that psych exam, remember?”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

She winked. “Relax. What’s the worst that could happen?”

That question aged poorly.

By 3:00 p.m., the fire alarm had gone off, the vending machine had exploded, and Cindy somehow managed to spill coffee on the professor and trigger the sprinklers.

You both ended up soaked, standing in the hallway, laughing hysterically while everyone glared.

It was just another chaotic Tuesday.

Until you woke up the next morning… and it was Tuesday. Again.

You brushed it off at first. Déjà vu, maybe. But when Cindy showed up again at 8:07 a.m. with the same two coffees, said the same exact line, and tripped over the same rug… something clicked.

You stared at her. “Wait. Did this happen already?”

She blinked. “Did what happen?”

“This! Everything! You said that, and then—”

Right on cue, her phone buzzed. She gasped. “Oh my God, I did forget to feed the goldfish!”

You froze. “You don’t have a goldfish.”

She frowned. “Right. Then who have I been feeding?”