Scream Out Loud

You know those days when the hours just fly by, and the sun is shining, and you're in the best mood ever? Those days when it seems like the world could end and you'd still be smiling?

Well, today was not one of those days.

Today, every minute was a lifetime. Today, the tiniest little things made me clench my fists and dig my nails into the skin on my palms.

Today I need to scream. out. loud.

I've hooked myself up to my "Chill Out, Girl, And Stop Wrecking the Skin On Your Palms" playlist. I ate dinner in a hurry and excused myself back to my room so I wouldn't snap at one of my parents and get in trouble. My door is shut, the utterly obnoxious sound of NPR's Marketplace constrained from entering my oasis of Enya and crickets and rain. (Seriously, even on a good day that show makes me want to scream!)

But all my frustration (frustration over nothing, really) and my anger (directed at whom? at what? I couldn't tell you) is still bottled up tight and corked with taut shoulders and a headache. It's not enough to actlookpretend to be calm and happy.

I need to scream. out. loud.

For the benefit of everyone else in the house, and probably the neighbors too (I'm a loud screamer) I need to scream. out. loud. into a pillow.

And then I need to set down the pillow and smash my face into its linen-smelling, pillowy goodness and pray.

And breathe.

And writewritewrite until my palms are smooth again.

And then maybe scream some more.

Yes, it's supposed to be blurry.

(The book I plan on writewritewriting after this post is a new one — realistic fiction with an odd sort of writing style that could only be Olive Tree. In case you were wondering. No, I won't tell you what it's about. Not yet, at least.)

PS: The giveaway is closed: Winners will be announced on Friday.