When I start fretting about something, anything at all, I always remember an old trick that works wonders when I am in need. I imagine that I am looking down upon myself and observing my hunched figure, my curled eyebrows, my clenched fists, my sagging face. As soon as I visualize myself in my plight, I start smiling. And then I start laughing. Fretting, who the hell is fretting? But I cannot remember when and where I picked up this old trick. By now, it strikes me as one of my very own.