You should know that terrible times have a sifting effect, letting the truly important human experiences of loss and pain and death and forgiveness stand out in high relief — and that if your lesser pain gets sifted away, then you just deal with that. You just do. Because to raise your hand in protest at the minor outrage you’ve suffered, when the bodies of the dead are barely cooled, is just . . . .in such poor taste.
Good taste is not much of a virtue to strive for. In the hall of monuments to human achievement, it’s only a modest bust, at best. But my goodness, it’s something.