Saturday, March 15, 2008
My coffee is cold
My coffee is cold. My bookshelf fell down. Am I angry? Yep. Did I bellow and holler until all living creatures fled from my presence? Did I cast the pieces of the toppled shelf to the four corners with all the strength I could muster? No. I sat down and drank my cold coffee. This attests to my ever growing maturity. Believe it or not I am heartened. I have struggled with my temper since I can remember. My mother tells me I was an outgoing, sweet-tempered child until about the age of three. What happened? Who knows. I'm not here to play Freud. I would be telling a lie if I tried to say things didn't still piss me off on a regular basis. Really, I think my body has simply tired of manifesting this anger into a physical battle. Now, more often than not, I acknowledge my frustration with a choice curse word and move on.
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1 comment:
Dude, move on, that's my motto.
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