Precept for a Bad Day

This has been one of those days when I have had a series of disturbing mishaps, one after the other, all of them being my fault, either at once or having taken time to develop.   And as I have to stop what I would much rather have tried to do today and instead I have to buckle down to  dealing with these things, which is mostly a matter of some sort of clean-up, I am lucky that at such times my mind always has a verse at the ready, which it quickly puts on my mental turntable and starts playing, over and over, as, I guess, a challenge to me.

It is a verse from one of the many versions of "John Henry," an old, traditional folk song, and it goes:

      I was born one morning at the break of day.

      I picked up my burden and I walked away.