A bad day for confession.

Your conscience: a seemingly reasonable man with subnormal IQ watching you for years from the bushes with a loaded gun.

A bad day for squares.

Geometrically speaking, circular logic is the most satisfying.

A good day for contemplating string theory.

The damned interim will stretch your balls.  However, gravity is god's necessary puppeteer,
and swinging your hips without it would be entirely ridiculous.

A good day to forget.

Does the internet compost?  Will these posts ever truly be deleted, or erased in some cataclysmic flood.  Or better yet deteriorate - like a piece of greying wood?  I used to wonder at how civilizations continued... how they remembered... how knowledge survived.  But in this age of information, I've become more curious about whether a civilization can unlearn anything.  I haven't checked the moon lately, but it might just be a good day to forget.

A bad day for making plans.

Best not to lay plans when the buzz and hum arrhythmia of the air conditioner is out of phase with the moon.

A good day to fall in love.

Today you don't need to ask permission to fall in love.

A good day to pick up your cross.

Everyone needs to carry their own cross.  The trick is to choose one that's too small for them to nail you to.