ANGRY Blues

I just cut and stacked 2 cords of wood, without slicing my leg open or cutting the skill saw cord. I should be happy. Instead I am angry. Why so angry? Because it took so much of my time and energy. Because it's barely a dent in what has to be done around here, and I am alone; what I want accomplished must be done by me, as weak and weary and incompetent as I may be. And what is my reward for this and all the years of labor I have done? What do I have to show for it all? So little.

I'm in a mood now. I might as well be angry for all the injustice in the world, due to people's laziness and ignorance. I'm hardly angry for myself anymore. It's metastasized to my fellow struggling single women. We carry on, doing our best to fill in for the men who won't step up to love us, journey with us, share the load.

I'm angry at the Great Orchestrator for arranging challenges custom fit for maximum personal frustration. What stirs your passion? Let me dangle that right in front of your nose, with just enough ambiguity to cast doubt, so you hesitate and lose, again and again. Let me gift you with vision, and break you with 'not yet'. Hope-turmoil- loss, in a heart numbing cycle.