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.

Unexpected proposal leaves me pondering my craving to be loved
Our reactions to others’ suicides say something about how we view life
Unexpected phone call can turn world from happy to miserable
Reality no longer seems to matter to dysfunctional culture in denial
Perfect time for reaching a goal can be right after you’ve given up
Another ‘Atlas Shrugged’ moment: ‘Reasonable Profits Board’ proposed
Obsession with partisan hatred diverts you from economic truth
Silly controversy over Cadillac ad reminds us we want different things