The Makings of a Perfect Day

It started normal enough. I woke up late, made coffee, walked the puppies, got an email about a baby penguin.

The thing is, I love animals. I love them so much.

On impulse, I asked if I could visit the baby penguin thinking I would go to the zoo and see it from across the glass.

Fun, but not fabulous.

Then I did some work, got ready and went to the zoo.

That’s when things got awesome. I got to go inside the penguin room.

Keep in mind, I was not dressed for this. I got dressed up because I was working, so I wore my heels. I didn’t expect to be allowed on the rough terrain of the fake-Arctic they’ve developed.

When they opened the door, I nearly went Kristen-Bell-in-that-sloth-video on them.

“Don’t panic in the penguin room. Don’t panic in the penguin room.” 

They’re just so adorable. One pecked at my leg with his beak. The baby I was there to see was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

But after that, the rest of the day was fabulous. I went to dinner where the fire alarms started going off and we didn’t get to finish our meal.

I got soaking wet walking home.

My car almost ran out of gas. 

Scout Finch had a gas issue on the elevator with my new neighbors.

I burned my second dinner.

I tripped running and skinned my knee.

But I didn’t care. I touched a penguin.

Here’s my proposal to get people off of antidepressants: Take a tour through the penguin house once a week. There’s no way you can’t be happy.