No this is not a take on Readers Digest or an attempt at any kind of humorous ordeal through which you will be subjected.
There are good days and there are bad days. And then there are the one’s you don’t really wanna talk about or remember. The fine line differentiating the latter from the last is the inablility to find self-pity/conversational value in the fabric of those daily events. Bad days are the one’s which you can reminisce about and someday (if you live that long) tell your great grand children about ( also in the mean time your children and theirs are not spared of hearing your stories).
Again this is not to be takenas generation gap story or a sad story of a teenager who has had one too many lectures’ and inspirational talks flavoured with a healthy dose of the fore-described bad- days.
The gist of it is that the really bad days are the ones that you don’t really talk about and that is because they tell the story where the protagonist (you) has no importance.
