Take one VW Beetle and call me in the morning

I had a bad day at work today. I had a headache between my eyes by 9:30 am and by 2:30 pm it was throbbing and making things look slightly wiggly around the edges. Not that I minded. Wiggly seemed more appealing than reality today.

We are in the full throws of our annual pre-September panic as we try to ready things for when the students arrive back on campus in a couple of weeks. Many of us were grumpy again today, which is never pleasant, but not all that unusual in many workplaces unfortunately. However, given what we do for a living -- that is, inspire people to go after their career dreams -- it feels disingenuous and surreal to be advising people about career happiness while simultaneously wandering around muttering under our breath and compulsively checking our lottery tickets.

Everyone has bad days of course, even people who are doing work they generally like. Still, when I left the office today, I could feel the cloud of the day hanging over me. I felt gloomy and despite the ibuprofen I'd ingested every four hours all day long, my head was still pounding.

Cue my ride home. A few years ago, my husband persuaded me to buy a totally unecessary, self-indulgent and possibly environmentally irresponsible 1973 Volkswagen Beetle. It's at the top of a list of cars I've wanted my whole life and although I hadn't had my driver's license for 15 years due to a fainting problem, I was finally healthy and able to drive again. Even though it's been six years since we bought that car and I drive it nearly every day from April to October, it still works its magic.

I don't know if the soothing comes from the distinctive burble of the VW engine or the cheery yellow colour or the way people spontaneously smile when we drive by. I notice that no matter what my mood, within minutes of starting the car, my heart feels as if it's going to burst out of my chest and I don't know whether to laugh or cry (and I frequently do both). Mostly, I find myself grinning like an idiot with the sheer joy of the experience. Maybe it's the years without the driver's license and the thrill of independence that never gets old for me or maybe I'm just easily entertained. I just know that seriously, my cheeks hurt because I'm grinning so much! I no longer come busting in the door at home ranting about the latest tax hike, world injustice or inconsiderate driver. As corny as it sounds, when I get in that car, the bad stuff about the world seems to melt away and my only option seems to be happiness. My "Daizybug" is some of the best medicine for whatever ails me.

We all have bad days - in work and in life. Do you have a place, activity, or person to be with where giddy joy is abundant? Spending some time there can do wonders to help you rejuvenate so you have energy to appreciate your progress and keep acting on your dreams.

Wishing you your very own "Daizybug".