Hey, Daniel Powter, you suck. Yeah, maybe I did have a bad day. The day is almost done (Editor's Note: Since I still am sans internet, the day was done last night), so now I can take a look back at it. By my standards, it was a bad day. No one that I know got hypothermia after falling off a crab boat in the Bering Sea. No, my identity wasn’t stolen while swiping my credit card, trying to become a Maxx-inista. Turns out, my gas pedal came back up after I pressed it down in the Altima. So maybe, by standards other than my own, the day wasn’t all that bad.
My idea of a bad day? Getting stood up by AT&T, for starters. I can’t remember if I have shared this on here before, and I can’t check for reasons that have been and will continue to be mentioned, but my 50 year old house doesn’t have a phone jack. No, not one. No, not one. As such, AT&T has to come out and install one so that I can get internet service. My sweet mother was kind enough to come hang out at the house from 8-12 [Note: While pointing subtlety out removes all subtlety, please note the subtlety that my wife didn’t stay at the house – that roster spot is waiting for just the right free agent]. Alas, the phone company didn’t come, and the only numbers I had rang endlessly for 20 minutes. You’d think the phone company could answer their leading product occasionally.
Throw on a few hours of monotony, some traffic, a dash of attitude, a cellulite email I wish I had never seen, and (apparently) a few too many stripes for one day’s apparel, and that’s as bad as it gets in my book. While spitting into the wind at karma, my days don’t get much worse than that. Funny how it takes until the 15th hour for me to realize, “Hey, moron, suck it up.” Miss Tracy, I hope you take a break from noticing all the sentence fragments to enjoy the commas I just used to set off the noun of direct address. On my bad day, I still got to spend the day with people I like. I ate 2 square meals and a triangle… I’m not really a breakfast guy… I sang along to a good 22 or so songs. I hung out at Riverwood with a few cool youth group kids, and a few cooler old people. On top of that, I’ve got 20 people lighting me up with motivational scripture on facebook updates.
So, thanks, God, for my bad day. Thank You for the kindness, laughter, and joy that filled my bad day. Thanks for letting me spend my bad day, constantly coming in contact with friends and family. And Thank You for not letting me freeze to death on an Alaskan crab boat... Maybe tomorrow will be better.
You know the worst part of my bad day? Not being able to come up with an appropriate synonym for “bad day”.
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