1:03 PM: Last night I patched the first infantile-tantrum-induced hole in a wall since I cannot remember when. The most unsettling aspect of the incident is that it was reminiscent of a time before there was space between that level of anger and action. A space I have deliberately created over many years. I have been angry for several days. The root cause is likely resent which was exacerbated by a lack of sleep. The final straw was that someone keeps taking away the dishcloth from the sink without putting a new one back, and when I went to get a new one the towels were in a haphazard condition with no clean dishcloths to be found. There were at least half a dozen other such small things of the same sort within about a 15-minute span. When I couldn’t find a new washcloth, suddenly there was a small knuckle sized imprint in the wall. No thought. Anger, then action.
I am not having fun. I am not kicking life in the taint until it ejaculates joy. I do not wish to continue in fashion.
