that kind of day

You may be familiar with the book pictured at left.  If you're not, I urge you to make haste to your local library and peruse a copy.  I can almost assure you that they'll have one, probably well battered–WorldCat has lists over 3000 libraries owning copies, and that's just the ones in English.

In my family, we refer to terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days simply as "Alexander days."  Today did not quite approach Alexander level, but it had its moments. . . such as going to talk to Jim, who was painting down the hall in the school, so that he could cheer me up about all the other things that went wrong today, and realizing that I was leaning against a freshly painted wall.  In work clothes.  I think we got most of the paint out, and it was just on a $4 shirt from the thrift store, but it's a shirt I rather like.  It was that kind of a day–an err in haste, repent at leisure kind of a day–the kind of day where all you can say, in the end, is "well, you can't please all of the people all of the time, and some of 'em you're never going to please, no matter what."  And so you might as well go swimming (even if you've forgotten your goggles), and come home and make mushrooms and garlic and pasta for dinner, and a salad from the lettuce you picked the other day, and listen to your favorite talk radio show (a call-in show from Yellowstone Public Radio called "Your Opinion Please"–I can't explain quite why I love it so much, but I do. . . people call in to talk about politics, and books, and road conditions) and listen to some music and look at some pictures and write a little post and pet your cat and read your book and go to bed.

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