I ranted today. It’s over on Twitter, if you care to look. I won’t feel offended if you don’t. It’s a small rant, personal only to a handful of people (myself, my husband, and the contractors who dealt with our basement after Sandy), and absolutely unimportant when compared to the greater tragedies that have happened in the past few days.
In truth, the only reason I mentioned the rant was the off chance that you’d noticed it already.
I hate ranting. It makes me feel like I’ve failed. When I get to that point, I start beating myself up about what I could have done or said in order to keep the situation from getting to that point. More accurately, when I get past that point, and the rant’s out of me, that’s when the recriminations start and I need to go do something Useful and Productive.
Thank Zuul there’s always laundry.