Yesterday I was so mad I couldn't type. Literally. The night before, someone had brought up a topic that I feel really strongly about -- and have for 20 years -- and I went to bed angry, hoping to sleep through it; I woke up angry as well (not helped by more email about it), and didn't trust myself to write anything for fear of saying something I'd regret -- even about what made me furious! I wound up wasting a day because I didn't trust myself.

It's amazing to me -- I can read news stories about horrible things, and shrug them off; I can read opinions that make me madder than all get-out, but calm down in minutes afterwards. But bring up a 20-year old fight, and it takes me 24 hours to cool off. It gets brought up every year, with the same people saying the same things, the same junta spouting the same phrases that made this a problem in the first place, and ending on the same note. You think I'd be used to the futility of it by now. But I still remember how it began (and I will never forgive the housemate who, out of spite, helped push the thing through), I still think it's Grade-AAA STUPID, and it still winds me up that there's not a damn thing I can do about it, because the junta in power has made it pretty clear that until they DIE, they're not giving up the reins and we all have to do what they say in order to play in the only game in town. I'm getting wound up again just typing generalities about it. Heaven forbid I go into specifics!

So there are some things that make me too mad to rant. I never thought there'd be such a thing, but there is. Ranting takes a little distance -- and I can't get there on this one. I'm too close to the thing. Maybe after the event I'll write it up; maybe not. But in service to my nerves and blood pressure, I've got to give this a rest. Sad to think I can still be that controlled by outside circumstance (or a$$h0les). Something to work on . . .

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