The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day that Wasn't

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One of my favorite children's books is Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, in which everything seems to go wrong for the main character who, as a result, contemplates moving to Australia. In the end, his mom tells him that "Some days are like that. Even in Australia."


Although the last couple of weeks have felt like Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: The Sequel, today....

• The tree guys were parked on either side of my driveway, making the prospect of exiting my driveway a bit of a challenge. Before I left for work, I went outside to tell them I was leaving in ten minutes and to ask them if I'd be able to get out. I got a sort of grunted yes, but by the time I left for work, they'd moved one of the trucks, along with the cones, giving me more space. Sight lines were a challenge, but clearing the trucks was a breeze.
• When I got in the car, Billy Joel's "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" was playing. WRVV played the whole thing (more than 7 minutes), not a cut version. That song (one of my favorites), which I rarely hear on the radio, was my serenade (okay, my singalong) on the way to work.  
• Before class, I had a lovely conversation in the hallway with two of my female students, one of  whom said I'm "like a mom." I chose to take that as a compliment. 
• My course slides were perfectly timed to the amount of time I had in class today, even with discussion. And my exams for the rest of the week have already come back from the printer.
• Thanks to a marathon work day yesterday, I'm prepared enough for the rest of the week to eke out some writing time today, guilt-free. 
• I went to a diner I rarely go to for lunch, and had to run out to the car to get a bit more money for a tip. On the way back in, I held the door for an older gentleman who was helping his wife, who was using a walker. He told me he recognized me from church. When I expressed surprise he said, "Yes. You're one of my favorite cantors."
• Starbucks was crowded, but I found a parking spot and right after I got my drink, another of the regulars pointed out a table that had just been vacated behind me. I offered it to her since she'd been there before me, but she waved me off, so I relocated my stuff and commenced to work on this post with my laptop on a table instead of my lap.

Today -- the day that would have been my mom's 82nd birthday -- is clearly not a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, though it had every reason to be. If Mom were here, I'd just have to tell her about all of these wonderful little things that have happened today.

But, as it stands, I suspect she already knows.

Happy Birthday, Mom. And thanks for everything.