Stressball, What?!

Carmen: I am mad at my dad. I am mad at my dad. Why is that so hard for me to say, Tibby? I have no problem being mad at you. 

Tibby: I noticed. 

Carmen: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Tibby. What I said, it was not nice. It was awful, and I'm sorry. 

Tibby: Well, maybe sometimes it's easier to be mad at the people you trust. 

Carmen: Why? Why is that? 

Tibby: Because you know they'll always love you, no matter what.

Six essays to write, five envelopes and one odd-shaped present to mail, one Shabbos meal to find, (life) plans to make, e-mails to send, phone calls and apologies to make, arguments to finish, people I need to be better to, a paycheck I need to track down, a sister I snapped at for no apparent reason. And, oh yeah, I need to train myself to be ready to edit at 6 a.m. Six a.m. Also, I am quoting from Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, and that list makes no sense, and I am blogging instead of doing any of those things. This is not good.