It's September once again. Only this September makes it seven years since Steve died; the same amount of time we were actually married. The grief is seven years old, the healing is seven years old, the boys are seven years older. And yet the rage is bigger and newer than ever. I am angrier than I've ever been, but it's a weird anger. It's there all the time, fermenting until some event or thought acts as a catalyst and it erupts like a psychic Vesuvius, flowing brief and hot until I can wrestle it underground again. Isn't that what Mark Ruffalo said as the Dr. Banner in The Avengers? My secret is I'm always angry? Yeah, that's my secret. I've warned my coworkers and my poor corpsmen to watch out for Queen Bitch of the Universe; she may be in attendance more often than not. Not that I want to be bitchy, or even plan to be. But, I've already caught myself snapping at the kids (which, frankly, may be attributed to them really, really, REALLY needing to go back to school. 2 days, baby!), which I apologize for, and everyone, absolutely everyone, drives me insane! Just the thought of them converting oxygen to CO2 makes me want to stab them straight in the throat. *sigh* Probably doesn't help that fate tried to beat the shit out of me by letting the young man I had great hopes of being with on a permanent basis decide that his life was far too complicated to complicate further. Kind of like, "I need some space. Without you in it." (totally stolen from Jeff Foxworthy) Gee, that's information that would have been a little more useful to me 6-8 months ago, rather than being dropped like a hanta virus infected rat. And right at this time of year. Awesome. I drank myself into a good mood last night but woke up this morning with both my laptop and my wallet open. That can't be a good sign. There's not too much more that I can pierce, since I do have to maintain a professional appearance, and my face is off limits. As is my tongue. I need to be able clearly articulate when I think a doctor is being a complete jackass. I could stick a few more holes in my ears. I'm desperately trying to avoid a major purchase, since I can pay off the Tahoe (another September extravaganza) in about 6 months. I am a pragmatic person 11 months out of the year, and then September rolls around and I kind of lose my shit. Deep down I know I should get a grip and stay in control, but, as I may have mentioned before, I am a tad irritated.