So much anger.

Anger at my job for being pointless, anger at a client that can’t manage themselves properly so their failings fall on our shoulders. Anger at people I work with for enabling said client’s self-management problems. Anger at myself for being stuck in that job, for being too complacent, too middle-aged, too clueless to know what I am supposed to be doing instead of this ridiculous job that makes me so angry.

Anger at myself for being a poor money-manager, unable to save, barely squeaking from paycheck to paycheck despite having no one to pay for but myself. (unless you count the cats, who really don’t cost that much.) Anger at myself for not living more fully within my means. Anger at my employers for not giving me a raise for how many years now?

Anger at myself for being fat, anger at myself because I have still not fully accepted  my body the way it is, despite the constant struggle towards that. Anger at myself for letting myself get fatter and fatter and fatter. Anger at myself for wasting so much time. Anger at myself for complaining about these things ad infinitum and yet never actually doing anything about them except complain. Anger that I have no direction, no ambition.

Anger that the answer never comes. Anger that I think an answer is going to come, fully-formed, like a lightning bolt. Anger that I am too fucking lazy to just do the work and figure it out as I go. Anger at myself for being too afraid to start anything, because what if I fail?

Anger at religion for manipulating people, for taking advantage of them in their most vulnerable moments, for making them think there is only one right answer, one way to be a good and valuable person. Anger at churches for pretending they care about something besides money and power.

Anger at assholes in government who have decided that they know what’s best for me and need to be a part of all of my decisions about my personal life. Anger at people who don’t give a shit and just let it happen. Anger at people who don’t give a shit about anyone in the world but themselves and how can they make more money, because that’s all that matters. Anger at those who just want to rape the world for their own benefit.

Anger at people who hurt other people because they are angry and don’t know what to do with it. I just turn the anger against myself. I eat it. My belly is made of anger — anger and anxiety. The screaming inside my head is at full volume, but maybe if I keep stuffing food in my mouth the screams won’t come out.

Now it’s past my bedtime, and I have to try to turn the screaming down so I can sleep, then get up and and do this all over again tomorrow. Another precious day given to me, wasted at a stupid job that means nothing and creates nothing of value.

I have $3 in the bank and I don’t get paid until Thursday.