A Vaguely Bad Day Even Though There Was Nothing Inherently Bad About it

Before I left my workplace last year, I talked to one of the marketers, a short, energetic, ever-smiling and extremely steely black woman named Linda, who's about my age. I told Linda, "I know that I'm going to have bad days when I just hate it over there, but I need to remember that there are going to be good days and there are going to be bad days."

She immediately said, "Yeah, but you know what, Helen? That's life. You're going have good days and bad days wherever you are."

This is a piece of wisdom that I've carried close to my heart this past year, and have benefitted from it. But if I could go back and revise my initial statement, it would go something like this:

I know that that I'm going to have days when the heating in the classroom isn't on and it's 50 degrees outside.
I know that I'm going to have days when I have annoying conversations about the LSAT in the hallways of language school with another American.
I know that I'm going to have days when the ride to work seems interminable, and there are no seats. I know that I'm going to have days when I can't sit or stand comfortably because my back hurts from carrying my schoolbooks and my dictionary and my taekwondo clothes.
I know that I'm going to have days when I go to my preferred cafe in Bandi and Luni's bookstore and the seat is really uncomfortable and my feet are too hot in my boots and I can't concentrate on studying, even though I've got a test the next day. I know that I'm going to have days when I hear the sound of an American voice and I look up and see two white guys walking through the foreign language section and I think, "I'm one of you! Talk to me! There aren't enough white people here and it freaks me out!"
I know that I'm going to have days when I wander through the foreign language section after studying and wonder why I haven't read anything of substance for a year.
I know that I'm going to have days when I walk into someone accidentally and, mentally off-kilter from that, take the train in the wrong direction, realize that three stops later, get off at the extremely crowded Gangnam station, see that I can't cross over to the other side without paying again, remember that I have only one trip's worth of money on my ticket, resign myself to wait for the train, stand there waiting for 10 minutes while the crowd grows exponentially, and squish myself into the train with the rest of the hordes. I know that I'm going to have days when I finally get onto the right train half an hour later and the car temperature is about 80 degrees when I'm dressed for 50 degree-weather. I know I'm going to have days when there's a funny smell in the subway car that makes me nearly faint and I just want to get a big stick and beat everyone else off the train.
I know that I'm going to have days when all I notice are the things that aren't American.
I know that I'm going to have days when I miss the sweetness of American men, and the forthrightness of American women, and the attempt to pretend, at least, that everyone, regardless of age, gender, race, and class, is equal.
I know that I'm going to have days when I feel alone.

Nothing inherently bad about today. Just one of those days, in just one of those lives.