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I don't want to be optimistic. I don't want to find something happy to say. I don't want to do any of that. I want to go cry and punch my pillow and take a nap. I want to scream. I want to... grawr! I don't know what I want to do! This accomplishes nothing, this sitting here and not wanting to do anything. All I feel is confusion and anger and you know what's sad? I wish I was back at school listening to a lecture. At least there there was peace of some twisted sort! Who wants to be angry? This I don't get. No one in any sort of right mind would say they want to be angry. Yet here I am saying I don't want to be optimistic! This stupid little twist on things that so many humans see, always something to be angry about, always a reason to yell. Why do we do it? Don't we realize there's always something to be happy about, too? Always a reason to smile and say "Thank you,"? But we don't. We don't even thank our mothers for changing too many diapers to count and listening to our screaming and all our complaints and still loving us anyway. We don't even say thanks for that! Good gracious heavens to Betsy, how do I get from being incredibly angry to talking about mothers?