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I have a system.

My anger fits nicely into that system because, usually, I get over things quickly. Embarrassment? Not so much. But my bouts and fits of rage usually start to dissipate almost immediately after they start, and then I’m back to sarcasm. I’m back to my obnoxious laugh and shrugs.

As I accomplish things, and I have (no matter what I tell myself in the morning, I have my old journals to prove it), this system is breaking down. Or maybe it’s the age. 28 has probably been the most relaxed, most accomplished, most mundane year of my life. And somehow it is turning my brain into absolute mush.

Someone honked at me this morning. I told them to shut the fuck up. I drove slowly to irritate them. I seethed at this honk the entire way to The Young Sir’s school, then the entire way back, then into my house. I let it go at the door when I realized how stupid it was, but why the fuck did it sit with me so long in the first place.

28. Year of the whine.

Though it could honestly be the driving. There’s nothing worse than driving anytime other than 2am – 5am. Nothing. fucking. worse. I can’t even comprehend why this is a truth, but it fucking is. I find myself heated with rage and near death incidences at least twice a day.

28. Year of the groan.

Maybe it’s relationship issues? Those have come to a head in a way, though they’re going back and forth. We’re working things out, then not, then working those new things out. It’s something that’s been growing heavy between Wuff and I for centuries but we’re finally talking about it and trying to meld back together. We’re trying to make a connection kinda like what we had way back when in apartment 1212 of The Darlington, downtown Atl living, but with more openness and a whole lot less vicious arguments.

Our arguments aren’t exactly docile but they’re nothing like the door Wuff broke back then. Nothing like the scratches I’d leave on him.

28. Year of the EH.

Who knows what’s changed. People get older. I’ll die someday. Everyone in this house and out of it will. I want to enjoy my time without spending too much thought on lengthening my time, if that makes sense. Feel good. Accomplish goal. Be a fucking LEGEND in my own head. Keep going.

28. Year of the angry wince.

We’re getting somewhere.