one of those days.

It’s cliché, really. “It’s going to be one of those days.” But today is one of those days.

It started in my small bathroom this morning as I was getting ready for work. I knocked over my electric toothbrush with the medicine cabinet door. It fell on the floor. In frustration, I picked the toothbrush up. As I stood up, I banged my head on the towel rack. Hard. Jaw-rattling hard. I was angry. If towel racks were people, I’d have given it a piece of my mind.

With a big ol’ bump on my head and a grumpy cloud above it, I left my apartment and made for the subway. Today, however, the subways were not running. Torrential rains had flooded the town, and the subways were at a standstill. The throngs waiting for a downtown bus were laughably large—the one in Columbus Circle was probably near 100 people. So, I decided to walk.

As I have alluded to previously, I like walking. Given a reasonable opportunity, I’ll walk almost anywhere. Today, is not reasonable though. Today is hot and muggy like you would not believe. And 80 blocks is 80 blocks.

Sweat stains were like a fashion accessory out there as I made my way down 9^th Avenue. Before long, the sidewalks grew more crowded with people doing the same thing I was doing—walking to work. It soon became like a traffic jam—impatient people trying to find open lanes, and nearly running into people with an irritated huff. People were yelling imploringly into their phones “I’m trying to get there! Just start the meeting without me….” The heat and confined spaces were like Miracle-Gro to my budding misanthrope.

Sweat dripping down my already sodden back, I looked up at the street signs. I was approaching… gasp…. Midtown. Midtown is, to me, like purgatory. It’s insanely crowded. I go there, generally, on my way to somewhere else. And when I’m there, I want to go somewhere else as soon as possible. The main difference is that I don’t really care where I go, as long as it isn’t in Midtown.

I kept walking, kept sweating, and sweaty people kept walking into me. I eventually made it down to the cozy and quiet West Village, where I calmed a bit and slowed my pace. I wound through quiet streets in the shade, and my mood improved slightly. But my head still throbbed.

Finally, roughly an hour and a half later, I arrived at work. So, how do I bounce back from this? How do I reach up and pull the sun down through the gloomy clouds? How to I turn the frown upside down?

I don’t. I rub my sore head, ride out this cliché, and hop on the next one: “Tomorrow’s another day.” Because I know it’s true. But if someone actually tried to say that to me today, I’d probably beat them over the head with a towel rack.

Have a nice day!