Running away from home

I’m running away from home at the end of the week. That’s sounds very dramatic. The “running” will actually take place on an airplane; I’m headed to Mexico for a week at an all-inclusive. My credit card company is pleased with my impulsive decision. I’m grateful for the credit limit that allowed me to make the purchase. I’m not so thrilled with the idea of paying it off for the next year, but needs must...

Choosing the big or small picture

Focusing on the world’s big picture is not making me happy. I would go so far as to say it’s making me miserable and yet I can’t seem to stop. I’m addicted to the information highway. I get the newspaper (or three) and I read chunks of it every day. I follow political and current event websites. I stalk the daily posts on twitter. It’s leading me to the conclusion that we’re all doomed and the world should probably be cleansed by fire...

Tetchy and out of sorts.

The world would be a much easier place if everyone did things my way. Then I wouldn’t get frustrated, out of sorts, and irritated. It is, of course, everyone else’s fault. The people in my life, especially the ones I live with, commit egregious sins constantly. I’m pretty sure they do it on purpose, intent on destroying my calm and wrecking my day. The litany of complaints I have is exhaustive...

Resentment is a bitch

I have some resentments. Some are old ones I take out and air periodically and some are new, a result of day to day living. I don’t like having them. Resenting things makes me feel small and petty and with the old ones, vindictive; when I revisit them, I often wish ill upon the targets of my ire. I don’t like having bad feelings. Their emergence, however, is an inevitable consequence of life. How we deal with them is where the work needs to happen...

hanging at the mall

I went to the mall today. It was a “need to” trip; most definitely not a “want to.” I almost never want to go to the mall. This is because, for me, malls are a kind of hell. They’re full of people, for one, and I find people, as a group, stressful. Their existence is problematic enough; add the whole “I think they’re staring at me, and judging me, and finding me insufficient” thing and who needs that...

Why do we believe what we do?

...Why some people believe the things they do has always been a mystery to me, but the article got me thinking: why do I believe the things I believe? The answer turns out to be, because it suits me to. My beliefs comfort me, whether or not they are accurate. Unfortunately, my beliefs don’t always serve me well. We all like to think we think the best thoughts. We all think our points of view are the best and most correct. Unfortunately, we can’t all be right. It’s a frustration, but it’s true...