Everyone has a rough day every so often. Some days, well, there ain't nothin' goin' right, err' thin' goin' wrong, all the news and all your luck is bad, and some bad-ass crow plops a big blarb of bird crap on your windshield. Your computer crashes, your child is sent to detention for stealing string cheese from the school refrigerator, you rip your favorite black pants at the grocery store and you have on white underwear, your car goes off warranty and immediately starts to rattle. One of the kitchen lights is making a buzzing sound, a creepy guy comes to your door trying to sell you creepy candy, your credit card is declined at the bookstore, and you have a zit in the middle of your forehead that looks like Satan's eyeball. There's mold in the shower, your shoelace breaks, and you pull a shoulder muscle trying to shoo away the crow that's getting ready to crap on your car a second time. You catch every red light and you are pretty sure you are coming down with a cold and your boss smells like onions and dirty towels. You've forgotten to pay your second installment of property tax, and now owe a fine.

I understand. Let me help you help me help you help me. Let us chill with some guided imagery.

Imagine you are on a quiet, sun-soaked beach. There is a gentle trade wind blowing, just enough to cool your skin, making the ideal temperature. The only sounds you hear are the rhythmic ocean waves breaking on the shore, a seagull or two, the palm fronds rustling. As your bare feet sink into the soft white sand, you come across a hammock.

To the right of the hammock is a cold beer and a plate of tasty nachos. As you settle gingerly into the hammock, a song from a distant beach hut begins to play, the Latin jazz classic, "The Girl From Ipanema." You close your eyes to relax and listen as it begins...

HA HA! PSYCH! Sorry, man. Tomorrow's another day.

I sure do love that Mrs. Miller.