There are days.

Days when the sloppy wetness of the sidewalk beneath my flip-floppy shoes doesn’t bother me. There are days when the mundane softness of a corduroy shirt is a constant marvel. Days when the random ripples of the murky river refresh me. There are days when I don’t care that I dripped coffee all over my raincoat on the bus when I was trying to juggle my laptop bag, my overgrown umbrella, a defective travel mug, and the book I was reading. There are days when my well-worn ebay shoes are the only ones I ever want to own. And there are days when a brisk walk in the rain with a neurotic puppy, a trip to buy a used chest freezer on craigslist, and a late dinner of tortellini with broccoli sounds just lovely.

There are days when I wonder why I ever let any of the little things get under my skin. Because after all, these things are little, and I care about so much more than just soggy feet, a stained raincoat, or a dinner that’s later than my stomach would prefer. There are days when only the big things matter, and anything else is either a small pleasure, or else it’s immaterial.

Yesterday was one of those days. And it was good.