Tomorrow is National Bad Day Day.
Unfortunately, I decided to celebrate a day early.
It started this morning when something flew up into my eye and scratched my cornea. The doctor gave me some goop to soothe my eye which made it hard to see. So hard, in fact, that I missed seeing a big divot in the sidewalk, tripped, and landed face first on the pavement.
With my face and palms scratched and my eye swollen and tearing, I made my way into the coffee shop.
That’s when I got the really bad news.
“We’re out,” they told me when I ordered a cup of Hazelnut coffee.
“Seriously?” I wondered. “How does a coffee shop run out of coffee?”
“We’re not out of coffee. Just out of Hazelnut,” they clarified. “How about French Vanilla?”
I shook my head. My eye hurt. My face stung. I had fallen in front of a gaggle of teenagers who snickered when I fell so my pride was wounded too. It was a bad day. A Nationally Bad Day. All I wanted was a cup of Hazelnut coffee. But apparently on National Bad Day Day, it was not to be.
“What happened to all the Hazelnut?” I asked. The coffee shop employee nodded at the floor.
“You’re standing in it.”
I looked down and saw that I was indeed standing in a large puddle of coffee. Apparently, with the goop in my eye, I had also missed the sign that said “Caution: Wet Floor.”
I stepped out of the puddle, shook off my shoes and ordered a regular coffee. Then I called my husband.
“I’m having a Bad Day,” I admitted.
“I hear ya,” he sympathized. “Do you want a do-over?”
“No thanks. Then it would just be a Bad Day all over again. I’ll just suck it up until Monday.”
“What’s Monday?” he asked.
“National Have a Great Day Day.”