There are two kinds of bad days, for me. The movie kind, like in One Fine Day where just everything is terribly-bad-will-not-stop-going-wrong and you just kind of get through it. You show up late to the meeting in your kids’ dinosaur shirt and duck under a newspaper while the torrential rain pours and you redeem the day with a glass of red wine and start anew tomorrow. I get these kind. I’m good at these kind. It’s survival of the elements; whacking life’s curveballs with a racket left, right, left. You know it’s coming, so you just put on a helmet and brave it.