The harmonious beeps of my alarm clock rang out over the thoughtful silence of the beautiful, early morning. I eagerly rolled around and slammed the snooze button. Another new, wonderful day! The calendar on my bedside table had today’s date circled, which meant an extra exciting day! I laughed. (Well, actually, all of the days were circled, but, well, that means MORE EXCITEMENT EVERY DAY, am I right?) I skipped down the stairs two by two, slid into the kitchen, and began belting a happy song at the top of my voice while hearing the oil dance and flicker across the pan (mm, that bacon smell!). The TV blared with news on joyful, endorphin-inducing topics. The perfect day. (Well, this was every day, but that means every day is the perfect day.) I hopped in my black Toyota Sienna 2011 and danced to happy songs on the radio (almost running a red light while doing it, but at least it was still orange when I reached the intersection). Arriving at my workplace, I got out of my car, still belting happy songs at max volume. The perfect day.

(Note: From an objective perspective, no. He got out of bed, cooked bacon for breakfast, and drove to work. No music was playing. His TV was off. He didn’t have a bedside table, let alone a calendar or an alarm clock. He lived in a gray apartment with trash lining the floor.)