15 December 2008 @ 09:20 pm

My dad called my yesterday a 'bad day'. Some events which constituted said 'bad day' involved an incident that involved many tears, a high percentage of danger to my precious baby — the scarf I've toiled over for the past week, and a malicious outburst at my poor brother for his wrong doing. In addition to this, I stacked it hard at work in the kitchen on the tiled floor, stupidly running to turn off the sink tap, which was overflowing at the time. This involved complete saturation of my entire uniform, being a white button up shirt and black pants, as well as my bright green bonds underwear, with practically no time to recover — not that we were particularly busy, but more so because customers trickled in at a rate that left no time for me time.

So, what kept me happy?

Definitely not the bad dreams I keep encountering the past four nights (and counting), or the 'bad day'. It was the memories of the night before, and more so, my family for their love and support, as evident with the scarf. They know how much this scarf, and making it, means to me, and do everything they possibly can to help.

It not only applies to the scarf, but my life and what's important to me in general, as evident in a conversation with my dad last night. He told me that he's trying not to use my new camera too much, and that we should all make sure we keep it safe, (since my last two cameras were pinched at work) because this one has more than monetary value. This one can not be replaced.

With such amazing people in my life, how can I call any day a bad day?

P.S. I finished the scarf today, but I'll be a tease and post photos tomorrow.