Bread Pudding Frustration

The dogs got out again today and everything I did seemed to go wrong. The last words I said to my middle child before she fell asleep were angry.

So here I am, staring at the computer screen. All the incessant noise, meaningless activity, pointless stress, and the hum of my brain on overdrive have me running at the first available opportunity to solitude and a place where I can siphon the nonsense. If I review the day, one event at a time, perhaps I can find where things went wrong a devise the secret recipe for life.  Maybe I’ll find the shiny coin in the bread pudding; that piece of meaning that somehow makes all this seem worth it.

Only now all I can think of is how many times I went through bowl after bowl of that crap and never found anything. Or if I did I held it up to the light only to find that the prize was really only some cheap estimation of something cool and really wasn’t worth all crap I had to swallow to find it.

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