Valentine’s Day, New York City. A woman bikes across town delivering scones for a fundraiser, wearing a giant sun costume and trying—desperately —to stay hopeful. Phone calls to NGO employers go unanswered. Sirens blur into drumbeats. Delirium tears at reality as she is haunted by Kurt Vonnegut and Simone de Beauvoir. Protest marches, hunger, police violence, and censored news of a distant genocide seep into every interaction.

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As the day unravels, delivery after delivery, acts of care collide with exhaustion, love with paralysis, and devotion to the cause with self-erasure.

Driven by a percussion score and dark humor, and informed by Monica’s own life as a frontline American activist "Good Day, Sunshine" is a fiercely intimate solo performance about moral urgency, burnout, and the impossible task of loving strangers in a collapsing world—one human gesture at a time.