When I was ten or eleven, I threw my hairbrush at the wall. What resulted was a lovely golf ball sized dent that I resourcefully covered up with a butterfly decal. I don't remember the specific reason for throwing the hairbrush. I was mad about something and the hairbrush conveniently sat on my dresser. I needed a release from my anger, so I threw it. And it worked. As soon as the brush hit the floor, my anger was replaced with panic. Smart, right?
I'd like to say that I've changed after ten years. That I've learned to control my temper, and I no longer have these overwhelming impulses to throw objects at walls. And I have changed somewhat. I don't [usually] throw things at walls anymore. But that impulse is still there.
After hearing some news today that made me feel like an idiot and the butt of a
Never Been Kissed high school prank, my initial reaction was to throw my cup of coffee at
someone the wall. However, I used my favorite, really cute coffee mug today, and the thought of it shattered and in pieces all over the floor saved its life today. I mean, it's
really cute, and I'm sort of attached to it.
So, instead of breaking things and finding creative uses for butterfly decals, I blog now and share all of my complaints with you, blog world. Thanks for listening :)
