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.

God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
We frequently go back to the past hoping to find a different future
As nightmares plague my friends, I’m grateful mine have subsided
Tired of Obama? Electing Romney or another Republican won’t help
Why can we sabotage ourselves?
My father taught me not to trust; that’s been very tough to change
Taking risks, working for big goals can create success, joy, exhilaration