I used to believe it was possible to have a “bad day”. That for some reason, my entire day was ruined, and anything that happened would further corroborate that the day should be regarded as a negative experience.
I don’t think of days as good or bad anymore, and I’m happier for it. It’s funny that I’d imagine such a miserable thing. The idea seemed to have found its way in, and survived unquestioned for many years — but when finally challenged, I found out how useless and unpleasant it was.
So now whenever the idea of a bad day shows up in my thoughts, I remind myself how pointless it is, and I move on. What a silly idea.