From time to time, people will deeply sigh and ask me, “Ever had one of those days?”   

And I always say, “No, what’s it like?”  (That’s because typically things go my way.  I liken it to the power of positive thinking.) 

Yesterday, however, started off as one of THOSE days.  I’ll call it “Black Monday.”  It started with a flat tire.  Pancake flat.  Roadkill flat.  So flat that when I tried to use my bottle of “Fix-A-Flat”, the tire actually laughed at me.  “FOOL!”, it yelled.  Typically, my mornings are not stressful because I will get up early just so I can have time to drink my tea, read the paper and meditate.  Yesterday morning I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off because I had to get to St. Louis by 12pm for a client meeting.

 Since my tire was flat, I begged my co-workers to come pick me up and off we went to St. Louis.  If you’ve never driven the I-70 corridor between KC and St. Lou, consider yourself lucky.  It’s a no-man’s land of potholes and seedy adult bookstores.  And while I love St. Louis, I loathe the drive to get there. 

Because of my flat tire, I was stressed out all day.  I was also wearing an ill-fitting suit that needs to be tailored – due to my recent weight loss.  Two hours in to our drive, I realized I was wearing black pants … and navy shoes.  Yes, I know.   Who has navy shoes?  I do because I wear a lot of navy suits.  Navy jacket.  Black pants.  Navy shoes.  Classy! 

My portion of the client meeting lasted a whopping fifteen minutes before I was shooed out.  Mercifully, the school had a built-in salon … and the highlight of my day was getting a pedicure. 

Actually, the highlight of my day belonged to my friend Cliff.  I need to give props, kudos and big thanks to him.  He’s calm, cool and collected — and he took time out of his busy day to get my tire fixed, so I’d be able to drive it when I got home.  Albeit 16 hours later.    

What can I say?  My friends are the best.  Kind and considerate.  Thoughtful and polite.  Worthy and loyal.  I, however, can be a raging, sniveling, trainwreck of a human being if something goes askew in my plan of attack.  Just ask Cliff.  He had to practically talk me off the ledge when I discovered my flat tire.  Fortunately, with one swift backhand across my face, he quickly stopped me from hyperventilating about my car.  And all was right with the world.   Now if could have just pointed out my pseudo-navy pants, the day might have been saved.