Angsty, Caged Fool . . .

So powerful and mighty I bore myself.
I, too often to really admit and yet too often to really deny, sit in my otherwise quiet moments and mentally, emotionally pace. 

Like a teenager in the mid-90s on the corded phone in the family's kitchen, I try to keep what I'm saying/thinking/doing to myself but all too often, especially now that I'm sharing a home and the otherwise quiet moments of my life with another adult, the grumps leak out into the air (by way of audible grumbles). 

There are any number of things that can set me off . . . a Tweet, a sequence in a TV show we are binge watching on the Roku, a glance at her scrolling up and down Facebook like real life and breaking news are happening there, an article in one of my millions of unread magazines, a change in air flow without explanation, my sock not staying all the way up on my calves. ALL the important stuff but every now and again (and it should be more often than not) I will find myself mid-rant and just get tired of my own schtick.

WHY do I care about the things I claim are impossible to care less about? WHY do I let things that truly don't matter to me (like war, poverty, and equality (I kid, I kid)) get me so upset? WHY do I give mental energy that I could spend on my plan for world domination and/or the ultimate plan to fade in to the shadows on "stuff"? WHY do I get so worked up about something that I can eventually just talk my own way out of by simply listening to my own crap?

There is a simple solution . . . go back in to therapy. There is a slightly more complicated, yet still shockingly easy solution . . . medication. There is a better solution that doesn't require co-pays or the abuse of chemistry for my petty brain . . . running more often. There is a slightly less tiresome, slightly less energy consuming solution . . . ignoring stuff. There is a slightly more realistic solution . . . oh crap, what was I ranting about anyway?