I got a little pinched for time yesterday, and I decided to spite myself and you, my electro-audience, by refusing to adhere to my blogging schedule. I have taken the horse whip to myself and hopefully beaten all the insolence out of my wretched form.
It’s been a surly day for me. I woke up angry, but with no discernible reason or solution. This has happened before, and I think it may be a rage built of a thousand minor annoyances. When you’re with a kid all day, every day, there’s little opportunity to get cheesed off at something and voice that frustration. Those moments of tiny rage just pile up in the corner, until your anger background count is through the roof. My warning sign is a powerful urge to yell at people driving in a way I don’t like. Today I wanted to walk up to the grey hatchback in the grocery store parking lot that had suddenly turned in front of an ambulance with lights flashing, and give that guy a piece of my mind. Since I was pushing Max in the stroller at the time, I decided to skip my personal mission of road vengeance.
It’s just another aspect of mental health. You have to recognize that anger, acknowledge it, and find some reliable methods of venting it safely. So, if you see me standing by the road, shaking my fist angrily at cars passing by, please direct me to the gym for a good workout.