I'm angry. I find myself to be so angry I could spit nails. It's not even because of any one thing. It feels like everything is just pressing down on me and I have no way of relieving that pressure.
Mom has today off, so she and my brother are going golfing. I'm angry that she gets to enjoy her day off when I usually spend mine watching her mother while she's working. Then I'm angry at myself for even thinking that way, because she usually spends her days of watching Grandma while I'm working. My anger isn't fair. I guess anger isn't supposed to be.
I'm angry because my brother decided it's okay to lecture me about the house not being clean enough for his standards. He also wants to put my boxes of books up in the attic and down in the basement while the kids are here so there's more room. Lovely idea (phbt!) except for the fact that I would never get the damned things back down or up. If we put them in the basement, Grandma will have a fit if I dare bring a box back up. If we put them in the attic, she'll have a fit that they're even there. Also, it's much harder to get into my attic than the basement. I want them in my room, where I can get to them, t I just know Mom will side with him and we'll end up doing what he wants.
I'm angry because as my brother was talking to my step-sister on the phone he told her hello from me and she didn't even respond in kind. Not that I really expected manners from her, but they would have been nice. I'm continually angry that my cousins love to get together, but never invite me.
I'm angry because I really hate my period. I'm angry because yesterday there was a nice breeze outside, so I turned off the air conditioner and opened the doors and Grandma kept closing them and I kept opening them. I'm angry that I'm not losing any weight - losing inches, but staying the same weight. I'm angry that I keep pushing my goals in life back while I take care of someone else who is, frankly, too old to do anything else truly constructive in this lifetime. I'm angry that I'm 31 and have never been properly kissed and haven't even had a hug from a non-related guy in much longer than I can even remember.
It's all such petty stuff that's getting to me. Yet, at the same time, it feels so important. This anger feels important even as I know that it doesn't do me any good. A person can live without books (but who's want to?!), without dates *whimper* or nights at the bar with cousins. I could definitely live without my period. A person can ignore that annoying, arrogant, self-righteous pain-in-the-ass they call a brother - except he just follows you around and keeps talking and always acts like you're the irrational one.
*Sigh* I'm going to go stitch. I want to finish my Green Man by tomorrow.