Every Little Thing

I’m furious that my house is dirty.  I’m furious that I don’t have a dishwasher and the dishes seem to be a never ending pile on the tiny fucking counters.

I’m furious that my children have no concept of “too far”. I’m furious that no one knows how to respect my fucking boundaries, including my spouse. I’m exhausted from modeling ‘Balanced Adult Behavior’ 24 hours a day in both my profession and my home life and seeing no changes in behavior reflecting back at me. I am tired of analyzing how /I/ need to change and now I’m going to start to change the behaviors of those in my environment.

I’m furious that I continuously fail at arting, which leads me to believe I’m also terrible at writing and just delusional in thinking I have any talent whatsoever. Before you say ‘Its just about practice’. I know that. I practice.  I’m just angry. Very, very, very angry.

I need a week of no children and copious amounts of sex.



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