Roses

Last Thursday was a good day. I got up, I went to Starbucks, I got some work done, I went to go sit in Rainy Hall and I knocked out at least 45 pages in my book for my book review, then I went home and made my best approximation of a Sunrise Ski from B-Ski's and took a really well-timed nap and got an episode of Daredevil in before I went out with friends to go see Bonfire Night fireworks then watch V for Vendetta.

Last Friday was a good day. I got up, went to an extra masters-level session for my Philosophy of Time class and not only understood everything that was being talked about but asked a question that led the discussion to an interesting place that produced a clear framework for understanding various ideas about time, came home and made french toast, then went to a seminar on the academic job market, came back home and took an academic break by writing several scenes that made me happy in my NaNoWriMo novel.

Last Saturday was a good day. I slept in and when I got up, I spent the day alternating between writing, academic work, playing my ukulele and television while watching the rain from my window before going out in the evening to a nice little place down the street with some people from my building, where I had one of the best whiskies of my life and talked about everything from arriving in town to working jobs before going back to school to buying pizza at 2am and regretting nothing, then walked home, listing off favorite TV shows and chatting about life experiences.

Last Sunday was a good day. I lazed about, walked with friends to church, got to sing Come Thou Fount, had a real emotional moment with God, several real emotional moments with God, actually, went home, made a better version of the Sunrise Ski, watched some Simpsons, which was on the television in the common room, and got some work done before going to a movie night and having a deep discussion about good and evil and why I still go to church.

Monday was a good day. I got up, took a shower, ate some cereal, went to Rainy Hall, knocked out some reading, wrote a post, then went to a group discussion where the topics ranged from the image of God to transhumanism to Superman.

I'm writing this on Monday night, but let's just assume that Tuesday was also a good day. It promises to be. They're showing Treasure Planet through the film society and I have a friend to go with me and there's talk of nachos.

I don't say all this to be Little Miss Sunshine and Roses. I say all this because there are different definitions of good. I have a friend who is at this very moment reading my definition of what a good day is and yelling, "NEEEEERD!" in the most loving way possible, and that's a good thing too. It's good that there's not just one answer the question of What Makes People Happy, that our experiences of happiness are as diverse as we are. We're all little islands, little worlds inside heads that have to struggle to come together, to connect in any way. The world this week granted me a hundred ways to connect with other people, a thousand graces and miracles.

Which is rather nice, come to think of it.