I was in such a pissy mood yesterday. I completely recoiled into myself and when I decided to uncoil I unleashed all over my beloved.

Now he's pissed. He's tired of being my emotional punching bag. I apologized but he's still pissed.

Too bad because I'm all better now. I was expecting a response from a job lead and, in my opinion, it was just taking too long. I became depressed and began to doubt myself and my self-worth. Well, I got the call today and I have an interview on Monday morning. I'm hoping the interview is just a formality and actually a salary negotiation. I've worked for these people before so they know I'm more than capable. I think they want to find out why after seven years I left in the first place. This is a perfect example of why you should never burn bridges.

It's funny how this time yesterday I was laying in the bed not able to move. After work today, I attacked the backyard with the weed wacker, took a shower and took the children out for dinner. I feel great. My beloved, on the other hand, decided to sit in with some band tonight. I probably won't speak to him until sometime late tomorrow. We have a gig on Saturday. He'll probably be over it by then. I hope so. Otherwise my entire weekend will be shot to hell.

What a difference a day makes.

Why is it that we never get used to rejection? It is particularly difficult for a self-absorbed egomaniac like myself to suck it up and move on. I have a stack of rejection letters from various agents and publishing houses and I used them as a tool to force me to continue on the road to publication. It worked.

I need to find a job.

Not on earth but on this site.

I guess we all have our reasons and when I began blogging it was just in an attempt to get back in the habit of writing everyday. I did not want to be critiqued or even noticed. I enjoy the solitude of this place. If someone stumbles across Forty Something and stays for a while they are welcome. I also welcome comments. But I don't write for an audience.

I love this. I sit at my desk at 6:00 a.m. drinking my coffee and just write. It's peaceful for me and it enables me to push forward with the rest of my day. It's a good outlet for now. Every once in a while I'll browse and search for other interesting bloggers -- I haven't found too many. Maybe I'll leave a comment, maybe I won't. Truthfully, I don't believe anyone is as interested in my opinions as I am. See, I'm very self-absorbed. Which is why I can come here everyday with ease and just rattle on about turning 40, raising my kids, my horrible marriages, my writing and singing careers ...

And not care if anyone else is reading these words. Someone once asked me what is the point in writing if no one will read your words? My answer is this: Writing is a form of expression. Sometimes we just need to express a thought -- that's why I write. In writing Raymond's Daughters I had one goal and that was to publish a book. Once it was published I set another goal and that was to have one person that I didn't know read it and tell me that they enjoyed it. Just one person. I reached that goal over and over again. I'm happy and I don't ever have to publish another book again.

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound? Hell yes! And if I'm the only one to hear the sounds I make than that is good enough for me.

I'm going back to work today. My face is a little puffy and sometimes I feel some pain but life goes on, right? I wonder why that is. Aren't there times when you just wish the world would stop for you? When you just want everything and everyone to be still and give you a chance to catch up?

Unfortunately, it ain't gonna happen. We are slaves to the clock -- always have to be somewhere, always have to do something. I remember 20 years ago a friend of mine killed himself and in his suicide note he said that the world just moved too fast for him. He couldn't keep up so he decided to check out. Damn. Is that the only alternative?

I've thought about it. I would never do it but the thought has danced through my head once or twice. I remember right after my son was born. I was playing Super-Single-Mom and one night the magnitude of what I had decided to take on just hit me. I was lying in my bed crying because I knew I couldn't handle it all by myself and I had decided that the best thing for me to do would be to check out. At that very moment my son began to cry. Thoughts of suicide were replaced with thoughts of caring for my son. I got out of the bed, warmed his bottle and fed him until he fell back to sleep.

I often refer to that as the night my son saved my life. Funny.

I survived the flap procedure. The inside of my mouth is a little tender but for the most part I'm fine. I really hyped this thing up to be worse than it was. I cried in the dentist's chair even before he started. I feel silly now but I can't help it -- I don't like when a guy is digging around in my mouth (insert dirty joke here). At the conclusion of the procedure the doctor began to give me my post-operative instructions. Try to eat only soft, cool foods. Stay away from hot, hard or spicy (insert dirtier joke here). And be sure to take my medication for the pain. He told me that the prescription bottle indicates taking it every four to six hours but he recommended taking it every to two to three hours in order to stay ahead of the pain.

Staying ahead of the pain. Brilliant. Since I know the pain the coming take the proper steps to alleviate it before it hits me. I wondered briefly if it would be possible to stay ahead of the pain that we experience in our everyday lives. Maybe not eliminate it, because we all have pain to deal with but to prepare ourselves for it so it doesn't hurt so much. I'll have to think about that but I just love the concept of the staying ahead of the pain.

I am so bummed. I'm having a periodontal flap procedure done this afternoon. For those of you who don't know, the flap procedure is one that involves cutting my gum line and pulling it back in order to clean the roots. Then he'll file down the bone and stitch it all back together. The dentist says this procedure is necessary because I have deep pockets which allow food to get trapped. Deep pockets? I'm only having it done on the upper right hand side of my mouth. He said that he would do the other side if he needs to make another payment on his boat. Very funny. I'm looking forward to a weekend of Darvocet and mushy food.

I bought a couple of new books to keep me company and to keep my mind off the pain. I'm now reading The Interruption of Everything by Terry McMillan. I also bought a book written by Nicholas Sparks but the title escapes me at the moment. I love Nicholas Sparks and would highly recommend him to any woman who wants to escape to the fantasy of true, unconditional love. Notice I used the word "fantasy".

RANDOM THOUGHT: I know why the lady on the Levitra commercial is smiling so much.

Well, it's another Friday and I still haven't heard from my former employer about coming back to work. The job closes today so perhaps on Monday ... I hope so. It is so difficult being at the job I have now. These people are idiots. That's not nice. They are not idiots. The majority of them just aren't out-of-the-box thinkers. I want so much more out of life and for the lives of my children. I teach my kids to dream big. I want them to know that their world is bigger than the walls of their respective bedrooms.

I'm getting all off track. The point is my former employer gave me an opportunity eight years ago to learn a business I knew nothing about and now I'm an expert. I grew with this company and formed some wonderful personal and professional relationships. People trusted and respected me and I admit now that I never should have left. My current employer does not see that it benefits the company to help their employees grow. They are content, no determined, to settle their employees in a niche and keep them right there. I can't do that.

I was supposed to have a gig last night. My beloved cancelled it after we got there. The place was a restaurant/bar type place. The area where we set up has three tables there for patrons. My beloved arrived an hour early in order to set up so we could start on time. The tables were filled with people so he asked the manager when he'd be able to set up. She told him he could set up at 9:00 p.m. Okay. We were scheduled to start at 9:30 so that would still give us time. Nine o'clock came and went and the bar staff is still allowing new patrons to sit in the band area and are bringing them food and drinks. What were we supposed to do? My beloved asked the manager that very question. There was plenty of available seating in the restaurant and the staff could have redirected the patrons to accomodate us but they chose not to. The manager explained, in not so many words, that from a business standpoint it makes more sense to use the space for paying customers instead of a band. True. Then why book the band? So we left. This restaurant is a popular chain throughout our city and my beloved is now concerned that he won't continue to get booked at the other locations that we normally play. I say "fuck 'em". What price do you put on your dignity? Were we supposed to sit their like chumps waiting around to play for $150? We were contracted to play at a certain time and we held up our end of the deal. What would have happened if we showed up at 11:00 p.m.? Sometimes the local music business sucks.

I was proud of my beloved for standing up for himself. It's always a turn on to see a man act like a man.

It's funny how some mornings I struggle for a topic to post. It's funny because I do this for my own edification. It's not like anyone is reading it and grading me. I do this because I am a writer and I love the sound of the click-clack of the keys and I love to watch the letters dancing across the screen in front of me. I love reading my own words and I love when my words are being read by someone else. There probably isn't anything about writing that I don't like. Except maybe the struggle.

The struggle of actually writing is hard to explain. Since I published my first novel I've been struggling with a follow up. Some said I should do a sequel but I really wanted to be around some new characters. I started a second novel last year and made some decent progress. Than my real life interrupted the process and now my characters, Olivia and Hank, are kinda just sitting around waiting for me to do something. Actually, I believe Olivia is lying in the hospital and Hank just flew in from Vegas to be by her side. Sorry guys.

I had a routine when I wrote Raymond's Daughters. That routine meant getting up every morning at 4:30 and writing for more than an hour before work. The house is quiet then and that is the only way I can write. In complete silence. Raymond's story was begging to be told so even on the mornings when I did not want to get out of the bed I did. I was a woman possessed.

After eight months of writing I had to have the book edited and then I had to deal with the rewrites. Which were absolutely horrible. I took offense when an editor told me to change this or that. Some things I changed -- others I didn't. In order to be published traditionally one must have an agent. There is no trick to it. There is a literary agent on every corner in Manhattan. The challenge comes when you try to convince a total stranger that they should take an interest in your project. Keeping in mind that they receive hundreds, no thousands of inquiries each week. Needless to say, I have a stack of rejection letters that would choke a horse. One of the first rejections I received was especially painful because it wasn't a form letter. It had come from an agent who read the first three chapters of my book and then requested that I forward the entire manuscript. I received a neatly typed personal letter from a woman that had actually read my work and rejected it. The others may have read the synopsis and turned it down, which didn't hurt as much because I rationalized that if they would have given it a chance they would have loved it. Well, I came across someone who had given it a chance and she didn't love it.

I had to find some way to move past that. I realized that everyone is not going to love everything that I write. That's cool. Some writers write for the audience. I truly write for myself and if someone appreciates what I do that's wonderful. If not, that's wonderful too. That's coming from my internal frame of reference. I rely only on myself for validation. It's a great way to live. I discovered that my purpose for writing Raymond's Daughters was not to get on anyone's best-seller list. My purpose was two-fold: (1) to get this story down in the form of a published work and (2) to have someone that I didn't know read it and tell me that it was good. I've accomplished both those things so I'm sitting fat and happy.

To date, I have not broken any sales records. There are many copies in homes all up and down the east coast, a few in the midwest and a couple in California (thanks to Amazon). Yes, and I even sent one to Oprah. I haven't heard anything from her yet. I plan to publish a compilation project entitled, Confessions of a Beautiful Woman which will include my poetry and essays. This is a great way to get another publication under my belt while I continue struggling with my second novel.

That's how it started. That's what I get for being so damned sassy.

Those were the words that I uttered to my beloved on a Thursday afternoon long before we became involved. We were working together and he was flirting with me on a regular basis. I was receptive to his advances but not in an obvious way. I don't recall how the conversation started -- I think he was inviting me to brunch or something like that. Anyway, I made it a point to tell him how I take my coffee, because after all, a man should know how a woman takes her coffee. I like my coffee very strong with one sugar and a splash of half 'n half. Not milk -- half 'n half.

On the following Monday morning I went to work as I normally do. I entered the building and said good morning to the receptionist. I walked up to the second floor to get to my office and the smell of chocolate almost knocked me off my feet. I am a chocoholic so the aroma made for a good way to start the day. As I got closer to my office the smell got stronger. I reached the doorway to my office and I realized that the chocolate smell was coming from inside. I looked to the left and saw a coffee pot that wasn't there the day before. The pot was brewing a blend of some kind of chocolate flavored gourmet coffee. What the hell? Next to the pot was my coffee mug, a spoon, one sugar packet and a carton of half 'n half.

I plopped down in my seat and was speechless. That was when I fell in love with my beloved. Not because he brought me coffee but because he listened to me. He listened, retained the information and acted on it. Quite a feat for a member of a species that is not known for thinking with the head that sits on top of their shoulders. I knew at that moment that I was going to give him some. I'm not so naive that I don't realize that was his motive but I have to give the guy credit. It worked.

Is it silly to reminisce on things like that? I don't think so. Sometimes I have to force myself to remember why I fell in love with him because it helps me to stay in love with him. Especially when he's not so lovable. I'll bet he does the same thing with me. I'll bet he doesn't reminisce about coffee or special dinners that I've prepared. No, he probably remembers a pink thong. Hey -- whatever gets you through.

The picture that I have posted on my blog is the cover art for my novel, Raymond's Daughters. It's my favorite book. It's a book about forgiving the sins of our fathers. It was inspired by a true story -- mine.

My father was a cad. A bounder even. He was married with four children when he met and began an affair with my mother. I know my mother was no saint and she probably made all kinds of excuses as to why it was okay to get involved with a married man. All that happened more than forty years ago but it still bugs the hell out of me. I mean, I don't dwell on the fact that I don't even know this man that was (he's dead) my father. I was raised by a good man who I know would give his life for me and my siblings. But when I try to figure out why I am the way I am I usually attribute certain behaviors to my mother, however, I am finding out that I am more like my father than I had realized.

There's a line in a song that says, Fathers be good to your daughters/daughters will love like you do. I had a chance to meet some of my father's family and it turns out that we are very much alike. He was very secretive and opinionated. He died of cancer and tried to keep his illness from his brothers. In fact, he became angry with his wife when she told them. He didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him. I'm just like that. My mother says I inherited his walk -- sort of a swagger that displays strength and confidence.

I really wish I had known him for myself.

Anyway, Raymond's Daughters chronicles the life of Raymond Johnson. It shows his transformation from a scheming, lying dog to a gentle, loving man. The story also depicts how his family, especially his three daughters, deal with his transformation. Each daughter represents a certain time period in his life and the story climaxes when all three girls meet for the first time at Raymond's funeral. It's a great story.

At the onset of my relationship with my beloved he announced to me that he was the most insecure man in my subdivision. That's probably an understatement. He is a very talented musician and plays for pay regularly yet after every gig he asks at least a dozen times, "How'd I sound?" Since he started dieting he can't stay out of the mirror and whenever we see each other he asks, "I look like I'm losing weight, right?" He's not only insecure but he's also obsessive with an external frame of reference. It used to drive me crazy but I'm used to it now because I understand it.

What I don't understand is why I sometimes have unexpected flashes of insecurity.

I am, for the most part, extremely self-confident and I know that I am my own biggest fan. I love me. Truly. I make my decisions without consulting anyone else and I stand by them. I make major purchases on my own with no regrets. I look at myself in the mirror and absolutely love what I see--I'm not perfect but I love me just the same.

Yet, there are times when a thought will creep into my mind. I've noticed that if I dismiss the thought immediately I have no problems. But if I allow I myself to dwell on the tiny thought it will grow. Along with the feelings of insecurity.

For example, last week I made the major decision to go back to my old job. Great! But than this tiny thought entered my mind: What if they don't want you back? I sent in my resume last Friday and I haven't heard a word. This insecurity stems from being over confident. See, I know that I'm awesome at my job and they should have never let me leave. I figured once they saw my resume that they wouldn't be able to get to the phone quick enough. Perhaps I suffer from delusions of grandeur. Anyway, the job closes this Friday and it is my understanding that they have to wait until then before they can start to set up interviews. That makes sense but this tiny little voice keeps trying to make me feel like they just don't want me back.

I haven't had a drink since the 4th of July.

Feeling this way sucks. I don't like it at all. I don't know how people who are chronically insecure handle it. I know I'll be alright. They'll call me in for a meeting (interview) or just do it over the phone and I'll be back in the saddle before you know it. Even if they don't I'll still be alright.

I'll just have to find some way to deal with the fact that everyone doesn't love me as much as I love me.

Tomorrow is my eldest's birthday. My first born will be fifteen years old. He's taller than me now but the day he entered this world he weighed only six pounds. The nurses couldn't believe that this high yellow creature belonged to me. They actually listed his race as "white" on his chart. I promptly had it changed.

My first marriage had been annulled at this point and my due date was August 17th, so you can imagine my surprise when my water broke 4 weeks early. The doctor, of course, thinking that I was an ignorant first time mother suggested that I had urinated on myself. He was obviously wrong and apologized the next day.

My child is growing up and reminds me so much of myself. He told me last night that he can't wait to move out of here and get out from underneath all my rules. I reminded him that no matter where he goes he'll have to play by someone's rules. His reply? "Not yours."

I'm taking my child to get his ears pierced today. He's excited as hell, telling me how good he's going to look and the girls are going to go crazy and that earrings will bring out the color of his eyes. His eyes are a light shade of brown -- not sure how earrings will bring that out. We're also taking a trip to an amusement park. It's going to be ninety degrees today and I'm spending my Saturday walking around an amusement park ... what won't I do for that boy? Nothing.

I remember bringing my child home for the first time. His room was decorated beautifully and he looked so tiny in the middle of his crib. I would leave a tape player in his room at night and I would hold him in my arms and dance him too sleep listening to Mariah Carey's Vision of Love. He was a good baby. He's slowly becoming a good man.

He has his own way of doing things. He's logical and naive at the same time. I love when he graces me with his presence and actually sits down and has a conversation with me. That doesn't happen very often. He loves music and movies. Whenever he gets a new movie he begs me to sit in the living room with him to watch it. I love those moments. He has other interests that don't include me and that's okay. I'm not in the forefront -- just lingering in the background. Watching. Trying not to hover.

Somewhere at some particular time the tables turned. I remember a time when he needed me more than I needed him. Now, it seems that I need him more than he needs me. I guess that's a good thing. I am doing a good job with my boy. I know that.

Now, if I could only get him to clean up that room.

I began this post yesterday planning to share my deep insight on how people are constantly performing and we don't really know who we are ... I've changed my mind.

Last night I had the privilege of performing on the 17th Street stage with my beloved's band. It was, to date, the largest crowd that I had ever performed for. It was the coolest thing I have ever done. Not bad for 40! It was hot and humid and I had a little stage fright at first but I was so glad that I did it and got through it. The performance was only an hour long and I only sang three songs but the feeling was indescribable. I got to shake my hips and swing my pontytail and scream into a microphone. I remember singing into a spoon when I was a child pretending that the towel on my head was long flowing hair. Oh, how times have changed.

Terry McMillan was on Tavis' show last night. Besides all the drama concerning her marriage she said something that I thought was very profound. Many women believe once their nest is empty that their life is over. The last third of a woman's life can be the most exciting if she wants it to be. There are so many opportunities and so many adventures waiting for us. Now is the best time for me, I believe, because I'm smarter and I have more money than I did when I was in my twenties.

Last night was like a shot in the arm. No more sadness because my kids are leaving -- one day. I should feel pride and joy that I'm raising them to be able to take care of themselves. The sky is the limit.

But for right now, I'm going to enjoy the time I have with them. Like right now I have to go so I can take my little girl to the dentist.

Enjoy the day! Enjoy LIFE.

Let's just try to enjoy today -- no, let's make it our mission to enjoy today. I don't want to worry about anything and I don't want to think about anything beyond this day. Our todays seem to get away from us because we are always preparing for tomorrow.

So for today I'm not going to worry about:

Where my relationship is going
If my son wants to go to college
Whether or not my old job will take me back
Whether or not my current job will ask me to stay
If my daughter will make new friends in middle school
Will I publish another book
If I should refinance my house

I'm going to enjoy the day by respecting myself and those around me. I'm going to love my family and I'm not going to speak a harsh word about any of my co-workers or ex-husbands.

This oughta be good.

Excuse me while I rationalize about going back to my old job.

I had three different conversations with three former co-workers yesterday and they all told me that I should come back to work. One of these former co-workers is my beloved. That's where we met.

Thinking about going back forces me to think about why I left in the first place. I left because my Manager made a comment that left me to conclude that she didn't respect me or the work I did. I got my panties in a bunch and walked out the door. Instead of confronting her about the comment and working through it I left a position in management with a good company that I had been with for seven years. I lost my stocks, 401k, good friends and the pleasure of seeing my beloved everyday. I have to learn not to be so reactive.

Sounds like my marriages. I got pissed over something relatively small and decided it was over. For example, the fact that my second husband didn't pay the car payment and lied to me about it was enough for me to send him packing. Seriously.

I left my job over a year ago and many followed in my footsteps in the days and months that followed. They are losing three more people in the next two months and the folks that are left behind are drowning in work.

I cannot stand the job that I went to and I've been looking for an out for the past 16 months. They lured me with promises of being able to create my own department and have complete control, blah blah blah. My boss is a lawyer and she knew exactly what to say to me to win me over. Of course, once I got there I found out that you can't create something that already exists. I am now considered "support staff". Working for a woman who couldn't make a solid business decision if her life depended on it. I'm surrounded by other members of the support staff who are perfectly content referring to themselves as "peons". They pay me very well but if I have learned anything during this ordeal it's that money is not the answer to all my problems. I took this job and took control of my financial future and now that I'm on solid ground I really have to get away from these people.

What will I be going back to? Long hours, a heavy workload and increased stress levels. I'm not afraid of work, in fact, I feel like I've been slacking for the past sixteen months. My nest is almost empty so while I need to be here for my kids it's not like when they were babies. I know these people and they know me so I won't have start all over again trying to prove myself.

I'm expecting to be welcomed. According to the former co-workers that I spoke to yesterday I will be. Well, I put in the application yesterday now all I have to do is wait.

Either something is right or something is wrong. Period.

I have always viewed the world in terms of black or white. I never really believed in the gray area. I make judgments and decisions based on this belief and I think it has served me well. One problem with this way of thinking is that I don't give folks a whole lot of room to mess up. No one is perfect, however, I know I hold people to a very high standard. Possibly an unreachable standard. I'd like to think I hold myself to the same standard. I wonder if that's true.

In attempt to learn how to release anger and let go of painful memories, I am participating in an exercise which forces me to search for the gray area. I am trying to look at a different point of view by taking myself out of the equation. For example, if someone were to cut me off on the freeway today instead of getting angry and cursing the person out I'll take myself out of the picture and ask myself what caused the situation. Why is other driver driving so erratically? Is he late for an appointment? Does he have diahrrea and is looking for a bathroom? Is he rushing to the hospital to hear his wife's last words? Instead of focusing on what he did to me I'll focus on him. I believe that if I put this exercise into practice on an everyday basis than eventually I'll be able to look at those who have caused me pain and figure out why -- or at the very least I'll accept the fact that shit happens and get over it.

I'm not suggesting that I should not feel what I feel. If I'm angry I'm going to yell. If I'm hurt I'll probably cry. If I'm disappointed I'll show my disappointment but the key is not to wallow in those emotions. The key is not to stay in those places forever. I told Donna of an incident that occurred probably more than thirty years ago when a man didn't defend his wife after his brother called her out her name (you heard me!). The wife has held on to that pain and disappointment for more than thirty years. She is still angry and resentful toward her husband because of that incident. Thirty years. I don't want to be like that. Life is way too short and it has to be unhealthy for anger to stay inside and fester like that.

Let's face it, I honestly don't believe that anyone who has hurt me in the past had some horrible plan to deliberately do so. At the time, when it was all happening all I could think about was my hurt and what the other person did to me. I'm beginning to realize that sometimes there is a just a conflict of personalities. Someone who counts every penny (like me) will not mesh well with someone who is fast and loose with his finances. Because when he comes home and tells me he lost the money for the mortgage in a card game, I'll interpret that as him hurting me -- not just being an irresponsible idiot. After I kill him.

Let's flip it around. Who have I hurt and did I do it deliberately? Of course not. My older sister recently reminded me of an incident when I hurt her feelings because of something I said. Honestly, I don't even remember what she was referring to. But she did. I apparently said my peace and went on with my life, leaving her wounded. That's my personality style; I'm very opinionated and I'm not always as tactful as I should be and at the time my sister was a little fragile. Was I wrong for hurting her? I don't know -- there's the gray area.

I guess it does exist.

I have an appointment to see Donna today and we'll discuss my breakthrough -- you know, the whole thing about me holding grudges. She better have some insight as to how I can let go of the negative and embrace the positive.

I can feel the onset of a mood swing. It's a good thing that I recognize it coming. Now I can consciously take steps to not bite off the heads of the innocent.

A defining moment is a moment when you reach absolute clarity about yourself. In other words, it's when you realize something about yourself and it causes you to make a change. That's a defining moment. I think about my life-changing defining moments and for the longest time I think I focused on the event itself instead of what I realized about myself and what change I made. For example, one very significant defining moment was when I annulled my first marriage. I was eight weeks pregnant at the time and was faced with having to support myself and my son and raise him alone. If I had allowed myself to think about the magnitude of the decision that I was about to make I probably wouldn't have left my husband. What I realized about myself was that I could not tolerate living a lie or with a liar and the change I made was to never fully trust another human being ever.

I think defining moments should be more upbeat and positive. Fifteen years later I'm learning that I have to trust somebody. I have to be able to rely on someone else other than myself. The lessons we learn in life are not instantaneous. We have to go through something before we can learn something.

My thoughts are all scatterd because of the impending mood swing. I feel sorry for those poor unsuspecting people at work today.

I'm pretty self-absorbed. I toned it down a bit once I became a mother but for the most part I am going to look out for me and my kids before anyone else. I call it being self-sufficient, a survivor. Others just call it being selfish. Another defining moment that I had last night was that I realized that I am not first on my beloved's list of things to do. He doesn't put me first. For a person with an ego the size of mine that's a tough reality to accept. So, what have I realized about myself? That everyone else in the world doesn't hold me in as high esteem as I hold myself. Well, duh! And what change am I going to make? I could make an effort to put his needs in front of my own once in a while. Maybe the laws of reciprocity will kick in. Maybe they won't. The point is I can't control him but I can control how I react to him.

I think I just had another breakthrough.

I think I figured it out.

I've been trying to figure out why I'm so angry all the time and I think I have it figured out. Donna says that she believes the anger is covering something else. Maybe. If it is I don't know what it is. I guess that's what I'm paying her to figure out. But what I realized yesterday is that there is not one specific thing in my past (or present) that has turned me into this angry woman. Over the past twenty years there have been a series of unfortunate events that have occurred in my life that have really pissed me off. I just can't seem to let it go. I can hold a grudge with the best of them so I'm carrying around all this anger that does not have a specific origin. One thing leads to another to another to another.

So now what? How do I let go of this crap and just be happy? I love my life. Really, I do. I have great kids and well-paying job and a nice home. My car is not fancy but it gets me to work everyday. I have family that loves me (or puts up with me) and I'm allowed to write when I want and sing for an audience almost every weekend. Hell, I even have a boyfriend who is supportive and shares some of the same interests as me. I'm personally fulfilled. I'm creatively fulfilled. I just have to let go of the anger and stop holding grudges.

I know it is a waste of time to get bunched up over shit that can't be controlled. I know that. I just have to apply that knowledge to my own life. I cannot control what has already happened. It's done and over with. I can't control the actions of people in the present and I damn sure can't control the future. All I can control is how I react to these things. Reacting in anger is not working for me. Problem is, so many people see me as the "angry one" that I think it is more difficult for them to let it go than for me. Just when I think I'm out they pull me back in.

A close friend of mine just found out that she is going to be a grandmother. Her initial reaction was anger and disappointment. Her son just graduated from high school and had plans for his future. She warned him at the beginning of his relationship not to get caught up. She reminded him of his plans and told him not to get this girl pregnant. Well, he did it anyway. Dumb ass. Well, she has let the situation sink in now she's out shopping for baby clothes. She was able to let the anger go and view the situation as something positive. I admire her for that. Amazed actually. How does she do that?

What are some of the things that I have to let go of?

1. Anger at my first husband for being a pathological liar.
2. Anger at my second husband for being an irresponsible prick.
3. Anger at myself for believing in both those bastards.
4. Anger at myself for leaving my last job.
5. Anger at my current boss for deliberately misleading me into taking this job.

One step at a time. I think that if I focus more on the things that I'm grateful for than I won't have the time nor the energy to focus on what is pissing me off. What are some of the things that I am grateful for?

1. Life, health and strength
2. Healthy children
3. Good friends and family surrounding me
4. Publication of my first novel
5. Having love in my life

I am grateful that God's love still surrounds me even though I don't deserve it. I'm grateful that He walks with me and protects me.

I've got to just let it go.

Should a person expect to gain personal fulfillment from their job or should a paycheck be enough?

Oh sure, it would be nice to be able to make a living doing something you love but how many of us are actually doing that? How many of us bound out of bed in the morning and rush to work anxiously anticipating the start of another work day? Not me.

What I have realized though is that I make a good living doing something that is bearable which allows me to take long weekends like the one I just had--fully equipped with a hot tub and champagne breakfast. Money does not buy happiness but it does provide choices. If I didn't have my crappy job I would be lounging in my own bathtub, bubbles provided by Joy and sipping on Kool-aid.

So today I will finish my coffee and get dressed and drive to work. I'll do my job and quietly thank God that I have it as I plan my next romantic getaway.

The Top 10 best moments of the anniversary weekend:

10. Kids with other plans

9. Generous sister with no plans

8. Never ending shots of cabo wabo

7. Historic bed and breakfast

6. Tappas dining

5. Martini samplers

4. King sized bed

3. Hot tub

2. Uninterrupted time with my beloved

and the number one best moment of the anniversary weekend:

1. FRENCH BIDET

Happy Independence Day!

My head is spinning and sometimes it seems as though my entire life is spinning out of control. I would like to just stop everything for a few minutes and catch my breath. That is not likely.

I have the strength to survive whatever the world puts in my path. Right now, the only thing that is in my path is the day ahead. I'm preparing for my anniversary with my beloved. There was a time when I wasn't sure that we would make it. It's such a struggle...being in a relationship with another. I ask myself if the struggle is worth it. I think it is. I stopped believing in the notion of romantic love quite a few years ago. The belief that romantic love lasts forever is unrealistic. No matter what anybody says it is conditional. Falling in love is based on feelings and feelings change. I don't deny that I am in love and that I can't imagine myself with another man. I admit that. However, there are times when my beloved is not that lovable but I choose to stay with him because he is a good man. I enjoy his company and we have a lot in common. It's not a sacrifice to be with him; I'm not giving up anything in order to be with him. He's easy like Sunday morning. Most times. There are times when he's as difficult as Monday morning.

I was wounded when I met my beloved. He taught me to love again. He taught me that it was okay to let another human being get close. He loved me past my hurt and even though he acts like a spoiled brat and an ignorant bastard sometimes I can't forget all that he did for me early in our relationship. He's a part of me.

Today I have to buy a new shower curtain and some candles. I have to vaccuum the house and change the linen. My daughter needs new sandals and I have to take her across town to spend the weekend with her cousin so Mommy can get her freak on. Tonight we have a gig and we'll play and sing our hearts out and then afterward come back here and start the anniversary celebration. On Sunday we'll check into the suite that I reserved two months ago and drink champagne and relax in a hot tub. We'll sit in front of a fireplace and remember our first date and all the events that have brought us to where we are now. We'll decide if we plan to move forward.

I can't think about the future right now. I have to get through the weekend.