Days
Everybody has good days.
This should be a useless statement, but I am communicating via livejournal, so bear with me.
For instance, I once had a day wherein I was low-down, busted and without prospects. As I climbed out of my car into the howling MN winter's night, grimacing at a wind that seemed determined to force itself into my nostrils and strip me bare of my BTUs, I had a thought. It was a common thought, one I'd had often before. "Good lord I wish I had five dollars", I thought. And lo, through a coincedance of proportions so far-fetched as to be worthy of ridicule, I actually stepped on a five dollar bill half frozen into a puddle on my way to the door.
That was a good day. But comparing that day to today is something on the order of comparing $1 in pulltab winnings to the arrival of elves at Helm's Deep. Juxtaposing the passing of the flu with the eleventh-hour cancer remission. Comparing a picture of a storm with being struck by lightning.
Well, okay. So I have a thing for hyperbole. And I abuse Dan Simmons' lightning analogy like a shaken baby.
But nevertheless, it's nice to go to bed with prospects and a bellyfull of good.
This should be a useless statement, but I am communicating via livejournal, so bear with me.
For instance, I once had a day wherein I was low-down, busted and without prospects. As I climbed out of my car into the howling MN winter's night, grimacing at a wind that seemed determined to force itself into my nostrils and strip me bare of my BTUs, I had a thought. It was a common thought, one I'd had often before. "Good lord I wish I had five dollars", I thought. And lo, through a coincedance of proportions so far-fetched as to be worthy of ridicule, I actually stepped on a five dollar bill half frozen into a puddle on my way to the door.
That was a good day. But comparing that day to today is something on the order of comparing $1 in pulltab winnings to the arrival of elves at Helm's Deep. Juxtaposing the passing of the flu with the eleventh-hour cancer remission. Comparing a picture of a storm with being struck by lightning.
Well, okay. So I have a thing for hyperbole. And I abuse Dan Simmons' lightning analogy like a shaken baby.
But nevertheless, it's nice to go to bed with prospects and a bellyfull of good.