I’ve decided to clone myself at the first opportunity. That way I can take turns with myself and work every waking moment, be everywhere and everything people seem to think I should be.

It troubles me when people attack me verbally and in public for what amounts to unfair reasons. But then they are upset enough at the time to believe they know everything they need to know and are in the right.

When I’m troubled about something, I often find myself searching for answers, trying to understand what happened and why.

I appreciate people who do the same, people who come straight out and ask me why I did something this way or that, why I ran one photo on the front page and a more important photo inside.

Everything has an explanation, which is hopefully not an excuse. I dread becoming one of those people who always has an excuse for failure. I may have been guilty of such behavior in my youth, but I sure hope I’ve matured enough to accept blame when I’ve erred.

These days my searches for answers to troubling thoughts are often online, with a Google search or by browsing sites such as WebMD, Psychology Today, bible.com, even inside my own head. Is it just me, I wonder?

Searching through different interpretations of the Bible brought me peace, especially Galatians 5 in the version titled “The Message.”

The main problem seemed to be self-interest on one side, and a perceived lack of interest, or possibly something more sinister, on mine.

I pondered this for a while, and then I logged onto Psychology Today and laughed out loud.

“Forgiving and Forgetting” was the title of one of the featured articles. So be it. I’ll just clone myself, and maybe this will never happen again.

I’d be like Superwoman, able to take care of my family, work at my job no matter where, even when my inappropriate shoes are recognized from under a stall when the conversation is struck — I’d be ready with paper in hand.

Hot meals would magically appear on the table every day, never a hair would be out of place, and my fingernails would be unbroken and polished for a change.

I’d be at every local meeting, even if one was at the same time as graduation, I’d never miss any community activity and I’d always have lots of photos of everybody and everything in the paper.

Who even cares if there is not enough money to support all of this extra work? We can just pretend there is only one of me to pay for my usual 30 hours per week, and the newspaper can be like loaves and fishes.

There will be plenty for all to have their fill, if only we just have faith, like Peter did that long ago night on the water.

Now if I can just remember where I put my red shoes? They seem to have disappeared, or maybe someone waved a magic wand and turned them into rubber boots.