There comes a day, once you have stopped blogging, where you start thinking like this: So many more interesting days than today have passed since I last blogged that it would be silly to blog about today.

To fight this, I decided to blog about the most mundane, boring day that would come by. And that day is today.

Since I last blogged, I have had a day where I biked a 100 miles, and survived; a day that I spent in anguish waiting to hear if my mother was OK, after learning that her house got broken into, in broad daylight; a day when my daughter turned one years old; a day when I learned that a sweet, dear friend of mine is pregnant; and a day when I basically had all my professional wishes fulfilled, for a day.

Now lets talk about today. The sky is gray. It is muggy. Even the wind is too lazy to move. I've spent this specimen of a day on equally thrilling projects: Trying (and failing) to wire money to a former Soviet Union country (which explains the failure); looking at different types of stone and gravel for my garden; changing insurance companies for our house/cars; fighting a losing battle with my voice-mail settings; ordering a new set of checks; missing people who I haven't seen in a long, long while; calling someone 17 times (busy signal for the first 16 times), just to hear him say that what I had asked for can not be done; getting a message from my wife that she will not be home until sometime late tonight.

Now what does this all mean, ladies and gentlemen? I will tell you what it means. It means that this day is a challenge! It is testing me. Pushing me. Daring me to give up and let it slip away. To say 'Bleh!' and just hope that tomorrow will be better. But I refuse. I utterly and completely, flatly refuse to give in. This. WILL. Be. A. Good. Day.

And I even know exactly how to do it.

Five minutes from now, I will be driving to pick up my daughter. She can join in with the day, and be irritated, pissy, grumpy, and moody. But I will not be. Because I will be with my little girl. I will just smile to her, sing her a soft song, stroke her cheek. And let the grumpiness dissolve into nothing, evaporate, and go away.

See? Easy, peasy!