Sure, sometimes I have a bad day. It makes me feel cranky and out of sorts. I try not to inflict my mood on those around me. I have learned to ask myself;
Have I had enough water lately? Do I need a snack?
Am I spending too much time in front of a screen?
Do I need to go outside, go for a walk, work in the garden?
Do I need a nap?
These days, have I showered, brushed my teeth and gotten dressed?
Do I just need a hug?
Never once have I thought I’m so cranky and out of sorts that I will just have to go on a homicidal rampage.
Because that is not a bad day, that is a bad life. That is hatred for self turned inside out. That is wrong.
It’s enough to make the angels weep.
(On March 16, 2021, a young white man self-described as sex-obsessed entered three Asian staffed spas in the Atlanta, GA, area and shot nine people, killing eight of them. A police spokesperson said that Long “had a bad day.”)