I’m tired of the good days, then the angry days, then the sleepy days and then pray for the return of the good days.  When I’m up, I’m hopeful that the bad days are gone, and dissappointed when they aren’t.  If I over-do one day I pay for it the next.  When will I build up the mental muscles to withstand the inevitable onslaught of exhaustion from day-to-day.

Getting upset yesterday that I wasn’t heard by my family was stupid.  When Anger Hurts is correct when it says you can’t make anyone change with the anger and getting angry at something this trivial is my choice.  I am the one that suffers from this choice, not them.  They don’t even know how rude they can be, and it’s been that way for as long as I have memory.  I think it’s Einstein that said to do something over and over again expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity.  I guess I’m insane.

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