Horrible day, horrible mood

This has been a horrible day and it is not anywhere near being over. I didn’t break my leg or arm and nothing fell off the house or the car. However, everything seems broken, from my spirit to my nerve to my ability to keep myself from kicking the wall. It is as if I have my own private Santa Ana winds driving me, let’s not use the polite word “crazy” when nuts will do. Batshit nuts.

I can’t stand it when people post something about something being bad then don’t spell it out. Like if you’re going to mention it, then for God’s sake spit it out. I would if I could. Oh, it’s not that I’m keeping facts secret; it’s just that I am really angry with just about everything. If it were 1870 and I I had a horse, I’d saddle it up and ride west. Just go. And it is all my mood.

There’s not much detail to be said about mood, but one question comes to me. Why do people preach tolerance and forgiveness and all sorts of goodness and then when someone needs to let off steam, a therapist or coach or whoever will paste a picture of someone to a punching bag and say, “Punch away.”

And, by the way, I have never put Joe Biden’s face on a punching bag; I can’t remember if I made a paper voodoo doll, though.