Some days, it helps to remember that we’re all stardust. Really — what we’re made from is cosmic. And that counts for something, surely.

So when it’s 96 degrees the first days in June, and the air conditioner is busted (1st world problems…), and I forgot to pick up stuff for a dinner I’d actually enjoy, and my arthritis is killing me, and the new air conditioner is going to cost THOUSANDS we didn’t budget?

Stardust. Each of us. All of us. Everything. Even the hot air I’m breathing.

That’s pretty cool, when you think about it. A guaranteed chill-out for what ails me. Maybe you too.