It was more than that nagging feeling of unease and depression — otherwise known as gloom and doom — that lately is renewed on a daily basis by the present state of the world. This morning, for some reason, I awoke feeling angry.

I mean really, really, “If-I-don’t-smash-someone’s-face-in-I’ll-explode” furious. It must have been something from my last dream of the night, though thankfully, I don’t remember what that was.

But I’m not the violent type; I don’t hit people, kick pigeons, or put my fist through walls. Even intentionally smashing a piece of china, while tempting, would only mean having to sweep it up. So instead, I deleted all of my research notes from the past 15 months, because they all related to the very subjects that are the cause of my anger.

It’s okay — it wasn’t a mistake. I’ve already gotten what I needed from them, and I can always re-Google them if necessary.

But I felt cleansed, as though I had washed away more than a year of information overkill. I know it doesn’t mean the horror of the past 15 months never happened; you can’t really erase history . . . nor should we. But at least it’s no longer staring me in the face every minute of the day.

You see, I realized this morning that I’ve reached the point in this life where the thought of eternal sleep no longer feels so frightening, but sometimes — after a day of digesting yet another 24-hour news cycle — actually seems like the best of a bunch of really bad options. And that made me furious.

No, no, no! I’m not going to . . .

Well, after all, if I can’t even smash a teacup . . .

But seriously, I’m just having one of those days when I can’t face any more news stories, opinions or analyses about wars, earthquakes, starving people in Sudan, political hostages in Russia, or the inmates running the cuckoo’s nest known as Washington. And I have simply transitioned from depression to anger.

Maybe that’s a good thing. Depression is debilitating, whereas anger can sometimes be directed toward something useful. Think of all those angry stand-up comics . . .

So I think I’ll stop writing for today, and do something therapeutic. I can no longer go jogging or work out at the gym; but I do have a couple of closets that could stand cleaning out.

Right after I grab some Haagen-Dazs from the freezer.

I’ll be fine.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
3/30/25