Resentment is toxic, they say. True. Should we stamp out resentment from the human psyche? Sure. How?

The other day, someone wrote to several people (I was included in the list), saying he didn’t want to become “a Lucie”. He didn’t want his life “gobbled up” by migrants (especially the ones he considers unworthy of his attentions). In private, he joked and asked me when I expected the Vatican to begin the  beatification process for me. Etc. Jokes, you know, where’s my sense of humor?

Fading, fading, gone.

The man didn’t ask for migrants to land on his doorstep? Neither did I. More to the point, the so-called migrants didn’t ask for trouble to land on their doorstep. Didn’t ask to get shunted around and treated like excess luggage left to moulder on the tarmac. Didn’t ask to produce proof of their worthiness. Some of them are a whole lot of trouble? Yes. Some of them are wonderful? Yes. All of them exist? Yes.

I deserve a rest? Of course I do. Everyone deserves a rest. Just show me how it’s done. How to switch off all the nasty parts – every single one – and float on a sea of blissfulness. Show me, come on.

Some other time, you say? Once I get my sense of humor back? OK.

Calling Sense of Humor.  Sense of Humor, are you there? Over.

(Never, ever leave home without yours. Lose the key to the house they bombed out of existence, but don’t lose your sense of humor. Plus a bit of luck.)