I am angry.
It’s hard for me to admit that. I’ve written in the recent past — here and here — about the reasons for this, so I’m not going to waste time explaining the reasons again.
I spent most of my 45-minute drive home from the office on the phone. As I locked the office door, I made a phone call that I thought would take 60 seconds, but it dragged on and on. As I finally pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant for dinner, I realized that my muscles were tight and my jaw was clenched.
I felt incredibly angry. It wasn’t anger about anything that had just happened. It was more long-repressed anger seeping out. As I turned the car off and sat in the fading twilight for a few moments, I felt a rush of irrational anger and misery.
I wanted to explode. I wanted to cry. I wanted to angrily scream out to ask somebody why life doesn’t work the way I was taught it was supposed to.

Love & Hope — Episode 2:
Public discourse is distorted by constant outrage over anecdotes
Sometimes you’re not ready for a challenge, but you do it anyway
Why waste time on Ukraine war? Focus on your own future instead
What if the best you can offer to someone will never be enough?
Love & Hope — Episode 4:
How much of what we do is driven by our unconscious social scripts?
Going through old relics tells me I’m still same person I used to be