The funny side of worrisome life.

I dream. Of getting through life. Without a single worry. Everything going smoothly. Now and then. I have days. When that dream comes true. But then I start to think. Too much. About what might go wrong. And it does. Yes. Yes. I bring trouble upon myself. I find reason to fret. Even over no apparent reason. Maybe because that’s the way I was raised. Trained to anticipate danger. In an attempt to head off any peril. Thereby triggering a sleepless night. Over what proves to be needless worry. Of course, I later joke about it. In an effort. To persuade myself. That life is very, very funny. --Jim Broede