Okay, I tried to get my mind off of it; I really did. And I went out to do something productive in hopes of making the house more inviting and cheerful.
Said in a grumbling hiss and then transcribed here:
I’ll tell you what I found – sticky, gooey, dirt-embedded previous attempts at improvement smeared on floors, counters, sofas, under tables and splatted on cabinets and walls and doors.
And asked rhetorically in a sharp, clipped monotone of total disgust through clinched teeth:
And why is this? I’ll tell you why. I live with complete . . . (here there was sputtering spasms of word searching).
I could not find the right one, although I tried out several. So right now I am sitting here with my face screwed up in the angry AmeliaJake Venomous Furor.
I know, I know, I know, I know . . . I know all of the rise above this attitudes I should be adopting. I know I should think it through when it comes to possible reactions and blood pressure spikes.
Good-natured people can’t understand that intellectual thinking does not sway my gut at all. It is a steaming locomotive of a drive determined to burst forth and
And that is why I read you =)