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I roar.

There is nothing quite so satisfying to a good, deep rage as to clean.... to scrub dishes and counters and tables. And bag up the trash and cuss under your breath and shake that empty salsa jar of soapy water. And smash empty soda cans flat... that's terribly therapeudic.

Smash!

Line em up... Smash! Smash! A good satisfying angry because you know you're right and no one's around for you to say things to that come out wrong.

Smash!

And you think of all the things you should have said and didn't, and all the things that weren't quite right, and you've found that point beyond rage that everything's clear and you're so full of disgust and anger that it makes the food sit wrong in your stomach, so you find something else to clean.

Smash!

And sometimes the cans aren't quite straight up and down when you bring your foot down, and they go skittering across the floor and hit the water jug with that distinct squashed soda can ping, and that's pretty satisfying too.

It's hard on the back, though, and I'm sorry I sat down at the computer because now I can feel the aches down my hips. Stupid back. I wish there was wood to chop and my back was all good.

smash...

Don't hold your breath for an explaination... a picture of Ellen in a rage is all you get from tonight's episode.

And ya know? I feel better.

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