That's how it's suppose to go: Bring a sin before a brother/sister and not be judged for it but exhorted to repentence. Be vulnerable to people and they will do what you need them to do without taking advantage of that vulnerablity.

I should be those things. I should be encouraging, persistent, loving, whatever.

(My stomach is burning with acid instead)

Some things just make you sick. Then you realize you're being a hypocrit.

In other news, my father tells me that my writing is always so angry.

This is news to me.

I didn't realize I'd been writing enough for him to see anything. (He still reads = he still cares).

That aside, I haven't been angry lately.

I've been disgusted, apathetic, happy, apprehensive, buggered, incredulous and a whole lot of other things, but not really angry.

All the entries about anger are momentary rants about work.

I really don't hate my job all that much. or at all really.

We can't change the areas of our lives where we're willing to give up something.

That goes for you just as much as it goes for me.

Father also says I obsess over people.

*slight smile*

Since when was that news to me?

I may sometimes forget that's what I'm doing, obsessing, but I have not forgotten that I have a obsessive streak that can border on dangerously possessive if I am not careful to curb it.

My apologies dear.

(No, I'm not really sorry)

(When I write, when the words come, a light stirs, the child wakes for mischief, barely difused pride permeates my mood, I can't help feeling a morbid glee at the plight I create, the corner I get backed into. I couldn't tell you why I respond this way.. and I have thought about it... What was it I once told someone? I feel like the spider in the corner? Really, I'm not so bad once you get to know me)

“The reality is more complicated than I supposed.”

C.S. Lewis once said