anger

I got this ten dollar gift card for Wal-Mart in the mail for doing a product test. So now I have to go to Wal-Mart, a place I have never shopped in my life. I'm kind of excited.

I've been in a Wal-Mart once before, with my parents, the one in Santa Maria. I asked my mom to buy me a lip-balm, and she did. So I have contributed to their empire.

I finished off this bag of lemon cookies that taste just like these cookies we would eat from McDonald's when we were little. The taste is the same, but the texture's different. Anyway, the sentimental value is good, but I won't buy them again. If I'm going to risk my health and well-being by eating refined sugar, it has to be really really good.

Not reading, but writing. Scoring essays, trying to be a good wife, but I'd rather nap than anything. Last night, a terrible fight.

I've been thinking about anger and where it comes from. I know where a lot of mine comes from, and from so long ago. When a person is powerless and abused, they can seem so submissive at the time, yet get so pissed later on. You'd think there'd be an expiration date.