I don't know what's wrong with me. I did outside things today. I worked in the garden and I hung all the clothes on the line and still, I spent all day being furious.
Poor Mr. Moon because he caught it all. I turned my back to him all day. And he did nothing but be sweet to me. It's like if he brought me diamonds I would scream at him. I would say, "I'm sick of diamonds. Why don't you ever bring me rubies?"
I know this is illogical. I know I am angry at something else and that he is safe for me to be angry at and yet, it makes me sore afraid to be angry.
I wasn't allowed to be angry as a child and so I bit my hand and no one noticed and I screamed into washcloths in the bathroom until my throat was bloody and I didn't allow myself to eat over 800 calories a day and, and, and...
But now I am a grown woman and I have to figure out why I am angry.
We went over to Lily and Jason's and I wasn't one bit angry there. I was perfectly content to sit on the couch and watch Lily nurse Gibson and watch Owen play with his toys and cuddle with his mama and play loud and boisterous catch-me-games with his daddy and watch some completely stupid TV show about crazy insane people catching rattlesnakes, including a 95-year old woman who looked damn good and who has been catching rattlesnakes since she was nine years old and who is still going out to the Texas desert to catch them.
I have no idea why these people catch rattlesnakes. I really don't.
Maybe I should find me a rattlesnake and wrestle it into submission. Maybe I should handle snakes and pray to God to protect me and also to show me why I am angry.
I don't know. Sundays can be tricky.
I hope I get a do-over tomorrow. I'm going to do my best to ensure that possibility.
Maybe I need more yogurt. Tough shit. I'm going to eat meat tonight and a salad out of the garden. We shall see where that leads.