In "Daffodils" Wordsworth said that when he's having a bad day, he closes his eyes and daydreams of the flowers he saw when he was visiting the Lake District. There are many things about which I daydream when I'm feeling, as Wordsworth said, "pensive:" walking through the Dickinsion streets of London, pretending I was a princess at Hampton Court Palace, spending long days under a quilt, book in hand, by a fireplace with my feet up, laughing until I think I might die with my best friends; the list could go on, but the thing I found myself daydreaming of today, which was one of the more wretched days of my life, Monday. This Monday, I had probably one of the best hair days of my life. Not like fixed for a special occasion/going out hair, it was just really nice, normal, everyday hair. It pleased me beyond belief. In the Cherry Hall faculty bathroom, where I am legally permitted to go, I looked to Whitney and said, "Wow, my hair looks awesome."
Today I closed my eyes and daydreamed that I could relive that day. Not only because my hair was awesome, but because that was a really good day. You have these good days in which something really amazing, life changing, happens. This wasn't one of those days. This was one of those days where you feel carefree. Nothing particularly great or out of the ordinary happens; it's just a truly happy day: nice weather, nice outfit (new scarf and gloves) and nice hair, spending somewhat leisurly time with friends. I think we sometimes take these days for granted. I didn't win the lottery, I didn't get proposed to or married or swept off my feet. But I had a wonderful day.
i miss those days.
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