Wow. Yeah, that happened. I kept thinking (praying) that when the sun rose Wednesday morning, Ashton Kutcher would announce the world’s largest punk ever. We’d laugh, shake our fist at him and breath a huge sigh of relief. But we weren’t punk’d. This wasn’t a dream. Or a test. This was real, scary real. I hurt so much right now. My original post for today seemed trite. And wrong. I wanted to stay in bed and weep for the world. But lying there, with my cat, Max, pressed against me, I realized my silence only helps hate continue to win.