My Ideal Day

Daily writing prompt

Describe your most ideal day from beginning to end.

Some people picture their ideal day on a beach, cocktail sweating down their wrist, sun warming their bones. Cute.
Mine arrived today. Thursday. Wrapped in snow boots, garbage‑truck percussion, and a doorbell that decided to resurrect itself like it had a personal vendetta.

I woke up early, smiling that quiet, suspicious smile — the one that feels like a secret between you and the universe. Maybe it was last night’s zucchini soup. Maybe the tuna. Maybe the beetroot glowing in the fridge like a red‑skinned oracle. Whatever the reason, I slid out of bed with the confidence of someone who knows she can handle anything, even Thursday.

Email first.
And there — bam — an offer so good it snapped my eyes open like someone pulled a velvet curtain. Right then, the alarm chimed: recycling day. Thursday. Of course. Destiny has a sense of humor.

I dressed on autopilot: layers, boots, laptop, charger, phone, optimism, mild mischief. Then I sprinted to my mother’s apartment, where our morning ritual unfolded — hair appointments, walks, plans, and the existential question of the day:
What do we do with the rice paper?
A question with the seductive promise of a blank page.
Anything. Absolutely anything.

While we plotted culinary rebellion, the little boy with the trolley passed by. Same hour, same metallic clink‑clink‑clink. He’s basically a human metronome with better comedic timing.

And then… bam again.

The garbage bins trembled like they were about to confess something. That only means one thing: the garbage truck. And with it, the miracle of the decade — the doorbell.
Yes. THE doorbell.
The one that’s been dead for ten years.
Apparently cold, humidity, or the firm, unapologetic touch of a garbage man brought it back to life.

And the miracle
actually
worked.
You ring outside, it sings inside. Civilization rebooted.

In under an hour, the truck was gone. A perfect day. Especially considering that last December we waited four hours, and then two weeks we simply surrendered to entropy.

By 9 a.m., I was ready to work. A domestic victory worthy of a parade.

Now I just hope the month‑late payment finally arrives so I can buy rice paper for a cute recipe. I already have eggs, cheese, and appetite. And if the universe is generous, maybe I’ll manage a long, warm bath tonight. And cleaning. And silence. And — why not — world peace.

Bonus: Rice Paper Rolls

Ingredients

Thin rice paper sheets — the translucent kind that look like they’re hiding secrets
Carrot, sliced into elegant, almost see‑through strips
Crisp cucumber
Red or yellow bell pepper for color and attitude
Egg omelet cut into ribbons or crumbled cheese (because Romanian cheese is delicious)
Tuna, tofu, or whatever protein survived in your fridge
Fresh mint or coriander — the exotic note that makes the neighbors suspicious
Dipping sauce: soy sauce + honey + lime + a whisper of grated ginger

Steps

Fill a wide bowl with warm water.
Dip one rice paper sheet for 5–7 seconds, just until it softens like warmed silk.
Lay it on a plate and let it settle — rice paper has feelings too.
In the center, arrange your vegetables, egg ribbons or cheese, tuna, and the fresh herbs.
Fold the bottom over the filling, then the sides, then roll it tight — like sealing a small, delicious secret.
Mix the sauce: soy + honey + lime + ginger. Taste. Adjust. Pretend you’re judging MasterChef.
Take a bite. Let it crunch, perfume, and lie to you gently that you’re eating something light, exotic, and perfectly under control.

✨ PROMO TIME ✨

TWO BOOKS. ONE WEEK. PROMOTIONAL PRICE.

February 7 – February 14
Two of my books are available at promotional prices on Amazon.

If you want to support me — this is the moment.
If you buy the books — thank you.
If you don’t — leave a review on Amazon.
Or simply rate the books on Goodreads — it’s free, it takes a moment, and it helps more than you’d ever imagine.

I’ll gladly return the favor.
Thanks a million ❤️