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I’m mad. I didn’t wake up this way. My husband came into the bedroom about 7:30 as I was getting up and told me our drain (the main drain) was backed up AGAIN and I couldn’t use any of the “facilities”. When the drain gets blocked, the sewage water from the house drains onto the utility room floor. It’s disgusting, and I should be thankful to my husband for cleaning up that mess. And I am grateful, but I still can’t shake my anger.

For anger to be this strong, I feel like there has to be another reason. I’m feeling it in my muscles and bones, that pent-up feeling of powerlessness. I need a vent, and soon I’ll go to yoga, and hopefully that will help.

What’s odd, is I rarely get rip-roarin’ mad. I think all the pressures that are foisted upon us from a 24-hour news cycle has something to do with it. My sister lives in Florida near Tampa, and of course I’m worried about her, her children, and her grandchildren — and even people I don’t know. What a horrible storm. The devastation in Houston has only begun to be cleared up — and that will take forever — and now we have another area of the country waiting to be torn to shreds and dropped in floods of filthy water.

Life’s not fair. (But I know that.)

I get tired of the Trump bashing, the races fighting, the Alt-Left assaulting the Alt-Right, and vice versa, the Neo-Nazis, the Left-wing agitators, the attacks on free speech and free thought — I think I need a rest from TV and the internet.

I’m mad, but now I’m off to yoga, and hopefully I’ll be able to quit obsessing and cope with the rest of the day, not matter what cr*p it brings.