I had a really bad morning. When I woke up, my external hard drive -- the one that holds all my music -- failed again. It crashed my computer like five times. So I don't have access to any of my music anymore, plus my computer wasn't being cooperative. Then, on my way to work, some loser in an SUV bumper-tapped me -- he was on his cell phone and wasn't paying attention, but slammed on his brakes hard enough to only nudge my car without causing any damage, thankfully. Then I got to work and found that America West had cancelled my flight back East next month, so I had to make alternate plans -- how convenient for them that they let me know just under the 30-day limit that most airlines require for reservations before they jack up the prices. Suffice it to say that a rather large black cloud was hanging over my head today. Until around 3:30 when the mailroom guy dropped off the poster tube on my desk. Dad retook his boards a few months ago. He's a doctor, so every seven years, he should get recertified by the American Board of Family Physicians. He studied for months and was convinced that he failed. He passed, and I know this because he sent me a copy of the letter blown up to a poster size of 24" by 36". When I called to thank him for giving me a much-needed laugh (and ask another couple of questions about other things), my mom informed me that was the original size of the letter. She said, "It's such a big thing to pass your boards, they want to let you know in a big way." It gave me an even bigger laugh when my dad confessed to her -- after three weeks -- that no, they really didn't send letters that big, he had blown it up himself and then convinced her that they sent it to him that way. People do wonder how I turned out so normal when they hear stories about my parents. And no, I don't exaggerate stories about my parents. I don't need to.