I spend a chunk of my morning arguing with Bob in e-mail about the first act (he won because he was right) and was just trying to convince myself to get out of bed when the doorbell rang. I am not used to doorbells ringing. Or doorbells, for that matter. So I put on my jeans and went to the door and there was Pat Gaffney and Louise, her beautiful mixed-breed dog who looks like a boxer to me but Pat says no. Pat then said, “Lunch,” and I said, “Absolutely,” and we walked one block to the grill and had a wonderful time discussing absolutely nothing of value but all of great interest, and I gave Louise some of my bacon when Pat wasn’t looking. Then we said good-bye and she walked back home to do things, and I came back home to look at Act One again and fell asleep instead.
In other words, a perfect day so far.
Happiness is a friend who rings your doorbell with a dog and says, “Lunch?”
So who rang your doorbell and made you happy this week? (“Doorbell” is metaphorical here, but keep it clean.)