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.

We never get enough of whatever lets us feel safe being ourselves
Instinctive desire to ‘do something’ almost always leads to bad policy
Unconscious programming makes us eager to believe our own lies
The time is rapidly coming when I’m quitting Facebook for good
We often value a love only after we’ve carelessly thrown it away
What dark magic will it take to get Obama re-elected? Merlin knows
Industrial age relic: Do companies pay for your time or your brain?
We have no choice but to trust even in face of betrayal and hurt