A Portrait of a Perfect Day
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A Portrait of a Perfect Day

What did I do to deserve a day as good as this one?

A Portrait of a Perfect Day

I wasn't expecting yesterday(at time of writing), Thursday, September 14th to be anything special. I had to get up early for a 8 AM course, and had to, like every Tuesday and Thursday, work through my routine fast on autopilot. When I was checking my phone to check the weather, I noticed that the professor for my class had emailed us saying "No Class Thursday". I verified on my computer, relayed the surprise to my parents, and slept in another hour.

That's not where it ends, though. If it was just that, I wouldn't have an article. When I was headed to the gym, after a perfectly decent breakfast, I saw a fox. An actual, real, canine fox, just skulking around by the side way to Campion. While I was unable to get very close to the animal, I got a picture of it from a distance and a strong sense of wonder. I walked up to the FAC, ran on the elliptical for half an hour, and realized that Bojack Horseman is the best show ever. When I got back to the dorm, I realized something strange: I was in an exceptionally good mood. I wasn't quite sure if it was because of the exercise high, the absurd majesty that was Bojack Horseman's season 4 opener, or the energy drink I drank with breakfast. I just felt amazing. After talking with my parents about everything that had happened so far, we came to the conclusion that it was some kind of magical day, where everything was just right and only good things could happen.

And it continued on being a simply wondrous day after that. I got myself lunch at Boulder that looked a little gross but was actually quite delicious, as well as sweet potato fries. I listened in on two of my writing major friends have a fascinating discussion about their writing, while eating a bag of fresh-popped popcorn (I love Loyola's Writing Center). Three of my favorite Youtubers posted a new video. And to top it all off, on the way back to my dorm, I was face to face with a catbird. To those of you who don't know, a catbird is a small, soft-looking gray bird that sings like a squeaky toy.

Exhibit A.

They are the objectively best birds on Loyola's campus, and bring me nothing but joy when I see one. And there I was, with one of these an inch from my nose. I find almost nothing more simply, biblically awesome than birds up close. It's the beaks, honestly: they look really weird straight ahead. For some reason, despite me being less than a foot away, the catbird didn't flutter off. It just hopped around within the shrub by the path. I don't know what was wrong with this bird, if it was young, sick, my guardian angel that has been following me around since last fall, but it just stayed there, tossing its birdy head and ruffling its wings. It stayed around long enough for me to get a picture.

I don't know what I did to deserve this day, to deserve carved beef brisket for dinner and getting my homework done early that night. Even now I'm still waiting for the other foot to drop, for something dreadful to happen: a tragedy in the family, something horrific in the news, perhaps the literal apocalypse. But no, I just happened to have a day that was 9 out of 10: nothing life-changing or momentous, just consistently good. Whatever may come, either one terrible day or a long run of mediocre ones, I will remember this day, and all that it contained, and have it give me strength.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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