...is NOT the same as a bad day trying to take a photograph of a longhorn, expecially when you take the wrong road and don't realize it for 20 minutes because every backroad country oiltop looks exactly like every OTHER backroad country oiltop, and by the time you realize you're 30 miles away from where you ought to be, you're in the middle of nowhere and you need to pee like a dog, but you don't -- because you know just when you start to relieve yourself, some state trooper will drive by and ask what you're up to, so you tell him you're trying to find a herd of longhorns you saw last week, but didn't stop to take a photograph because you thought you'd come back in a week or two, but now you've lost your way -- so you turn your car around, head back to where you THOUGHT you saw the longhorns, but they're not there because you remembered it wrong, they're actually in the town just a few miles from your house (you think), but once you get THERE, they're NOT there, and now you've wasted time, energy, gas, and a perfectly good bladder on a foolish hunt, when you should have just stayed home and gone fishing, because everybody knows a bad day fishing is better than a good day at work.
A bad day of taking photos is just a bad day.
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