It’s true. I had a bad day. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
This is where it all started. I’ve been here, at my red desk, for days. No, wait, decades… All of the bad things happened here or near here or were related to here. That’s all I’m going to say about that in my blog.
At six o’clock I said, “That’s enough. That’s enough of that.” I left the red desk room and caught the bus. The sun had made a spectacular comeback. On the train, I saw a girl wearing a t-shirt with a monster eating a smaller monster who was eating a smaller moster. The t-shirt said, “Moster Treats”. The girl was reading a book about Charlie Chaplin in Spanish.
When I got off the train, there was almost no one in line at Paul’s Bakery so I dashed in and bought two chocolate mararons. One is for DP… he’ll be so happy with me when he gets home. Then, I stopped in front of the antique store near us. These jazz dudes are too much! (Who is going to buy these?)
If you want to know the whole story behind Judith Viorst’s Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, you can buy your own copy here.