Sunday night blues

Prologue

I had a bad weekend. I don't want to blog about it. But I feel like only blogging about amusing or uplifting things is somehow dishonest.

Sigh.

Maybe Monika's right. Maybe blogging is like therapy.

Chapter One: The Last Word

I had one of those rare moments (especially for introverts) in which I said everything I wanted to say in one breath, stormed out of the room and woke up the next morning, thinking: "Wow, pure unadulterated rage can really be an ally when making a point."

Usually, after confrontation, I wake up and think: "Wow, I really blubbered my way through that." (And then I usually place a phone call or send an email to clarify ... or further muddle the situation.)

I had the last word, for once.

It felt good.

Chapter Two: The Driving Cure

Sometimes driving is the only thing that makes sense. Something about the acceleration that cures heartache.

Chapter Three: A Little Help From My Friends

If you happen to practice a faith that includes prayer, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep my grandma in your prayers. She had a heart attack and stroke while I was in Germany and is under hospice care. She doesn't have long to live. If you could just pray for her comfort and peace of mind, it would mean a lot to me, even if I don't know you're doing it. Thanks.