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.

AUDIO: I might not love you if I don’t imagine that you’re perfect
Shouldn’t you believe everything you see posted on social media?
Unexpected phone call can turn world from happy to miserable
Would you secretly kill someone to get what you want the most?
Maybe it’s so hard to love others because we don’t love ourselves
Arrogance and stupidity go hand in hand for the coercive state
Can I talk myself into not wanting great things I fear I’ll never have?
When governments keep secrets, you’re probably being lied to
Correcting an old error: there’s no such thing as ‘We the People’