“I have nothing to laugh about,” I thought, driving while crying in melancholy self-pity.  Worried about the future, hints of catastrophe looming in my frantic mind. 

And She dropped it on me.  A sign near the community center of a workshop I instantly felt competent to lead: “Disaster Training.”  Loud laughter through the tears.  I could teach a number of workshops: “Making Co-dependency Work for You,” “Putting the Fun Back in Dysfunctional,” “Preparing for Catastrophes that Might Not Happen.”

Walking on the wet muddy path in the gray-white fresh rain morning, I recognize how since I ate that nasty fruit of the tree “knowledge of good and evil,” I think I’m locked on a bad carnival ride.  I can just hold my hands up and scream out “WEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHH.”  I get scared, exhilerated, sick to my stomach, thrilled, terrified and when I get off, I want to do it again.