I am already in a foul mood most of the time lately. People who interrupt me in mid-story with an objection to an irrelevant detail should have paid-up life insurance. Word to the wise.
One thing that bugs me the most when I’m out of sorts like this is that I can’t read for extended periods of time. I am a compulsive reader, the kind whose parents had to make sure he wasn’t reading under the covers at night, and it’s a huge pleasure to me. When I’m addled from bad thoughts and rampant emotions, I lose track of things about every third paragraph. Maddening.
The cat has taken to approaching me and holding out her paw and waiting. I pet the paw or “shake her hand” and she seems happy with this. I feel as though i should be pulling a thorn from her paw.
It’s maddening to have this tremendously urgent need to fix things about my life and have no way to fix them.