Meh.

I have spent the last 30 minutes trying to write something worth reading, and it's not working.  I don't feel smart or funny or thoughtful or interesting today.  Today I just feel mean.  I feel like pulling my sister's hair.  I feel like sneaking up behind someone and knocking the books out of his hands just so everyone will laugh.  I feel like throwing rocks at the windows of an abandoned house just so I can hear the pieces rain down, knowing that someone else is going to have to clean up the mess.  I want to punch my hand through the wall or knock over an entire bookshelf or take a baseball bat to someone's mailbox.  I want to do something that will release this nasty, ugly, angry feeling that is boiling up inside me.

You are probably wondering what could possibly be making me feel this way.  Perhaps a poem will help me explain.

- - - - -
No Damned Good Reason

Because the sleeves on this sweater are just a little bit too short.
Because the sun was shining right in my eyes.
Because the returns register is located way in the back corner at Kohl's.
Because my iPhone has been cracked for 2 years.
Because someone hurt my feelings.
Because I can't see around that gas guzzling SUV in my way.
Because people are careless.
Because I am careless.
Because I had to take the compost out yesterday.
Because I don't have the words for what I'm trying to say.
Because my lips are chapped.
Because those blueberries aren't as sweet as I'd like.
Because a car speeding through the parking lot almost hit me.
Because my computer locked up.
Because there has been a slightly tweaked muscle in my neck for 10 days.
Because I can't have that thing I want.
Because I can't have lots of the things I want.
Because there's water damage on the bathroom ceiling.
Because I burned my tongue on hot tea this morning.
Because I forgot to floss.
Because gas is so ridiculously expensive.
Because a text message woke me up 2 minutes before my alarm went off.
Because my hair-tie isn't working right.
Because iTunes keeps shuffling through depressing songs.
Because I can't think of anything to write.
Because I don't live on a Hawaiian island.
Because I don't feel appreciated.
Because I am shallow enough to feel under-appreciated.
Just because.

- - - - -

Whatever.  I know that life is good.  I know that I am lucky.  I know that I am loved.  I know that there is no damned good reason for the way I'm feeling.  At the moment, that is all irrelevant.