What’s the phrase . . . ?

This day: I am not sure how to describe it. It’s a Monday, so there’s that. And it is a day after Sunday, but Sundays are just off now. They should be fine, I know, but there is something missing and I cannot get over it, and that is just the way it is.

I do know, however, that Sundays will be made right somehow so I will press on of course. And I am in a kind of exile right now, and that directly affects Sundays and Mondays and all the other days. It’s temporary, and necessary I suppose. And whether I agree or not, I do accept it all for awhile.


Oh, I have it. The phrase I am looking for actually came to me after work when I got a good, stiff drink with my buddy. He was buying and as he handed me the bottle, I saw that it was just what I was needing:

Secret Squirrel.

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Today was a “Secret Squirrel” kind of day . . .