Anatomy of a bad day
Some days are best spent in the closet or under a homemade fort. As I told my wife when she asked, it’s not even worth discussing. In fact, if I have any chance of having an even reasonably good weekend, I shouldn’t even think about the events of the last ten hours or so.
None of this involves ill-health, police, or nature’s wrath, so chances are I’m better off than a few other people I know who are having far worse days. Nonetheless, I prefer when days like this happen on Monday.
Cinco de “My, oh, what a sucky day.”
I’m going to buy some Corona.