This morning at the lab getting my blood drawn for second test to determine my age and gender:
I am pissed at the world this morning for reasons that would be inappropriate to share here. I am glad I am not at work because children could be hurt in the crossfire. I'd exercise, but my lungs are still filled with junk. I'd punch someone in the face, but I think I'd break a nail and that seems like not the best choice for channeling my anger. Plus I've never hit anyone, though my mom says one time I hit my sister. (I don't think so, I think it was the other way around.) Instead I am going to download some Jack Reacher and savor every last syllable, living vicariously through a character who routinely punches people in the face as he kicks some bad guy ass. Heaven help his fiction ass if the book I choose sucks.
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