I could write about Donald Trump.
I could write about his unprecedented declaration that he might not accept the results of the election if they go against him.
I could write about his new conspiracy theory that Hillary Clinton was given the questions to last night's debate beforehand.
I could write about "she's such a nasty woman".
Instead I'll tell you a story.
One of my patrons has a darling seven year old boy. He used to come to my storytime, and now he's off to the fields of academia. But they still come to my library.
At school this week, the teacher had a "share something about yourself" activity. One of the children shared that he's a Trump fan.
My boy didn't yell. He didn't get belligerent. He merely said: "I don't agree with you." And every other child in the classroom nodded their heads in vigorous assent.
The teacher then had a discussion about Donald Trump. Keep in mind, these are seven year-olds. The consensus? Trump is "mean", and he's a "bully".
I feel pity for the young boy who has obviously been brain-washed by his parents to worship a man who is anathema to everything this country supposedly stands for. I feel pity for him that he must see his multi-cultural classroom as what's wrong with the country. And I feel odium towards his parents for filling their child with hate.
But for the other children? I feel nothing but pride and relief. They get it. They get that Trump isn't what they should aspire to. That he's an emperor with no clothes. That he and his ideas are to be shunned.
So, whenever you're feeling down, pull out this story. The good generally outweighs the bad.