So........I haven't posted for quite a while now as there has been nothing of interest to share. After finally submitting an assignment which I hated more than marmite, I felt I deserved some fiction. I cuddled into bed with my newest kindle book. 'The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry'. A few pages in I began to feel some kind of connection between Harold's wife and myself. I felt the sadness in the poor man's heart towards the wife who now appeared to......dislike him I suppose. It made me think........................................... Am I just like Harold's wife??? I spend my time whining and complaining at my poor husband and my face always has a look of complete dissatisfaction on it. Do I spend too much time being angry?? I think I do! Self reflection can be a horrible thing, it makes you feel down and can take over your life. I have had a similar chat with my poor husband about it this week. His explanation for it was 'You spend so much time being angry that you have filled up your rage box, before you have time to deplete your rage stores.....you fill them up again. This means that your rage never ever goes away and your tolerance goes through the floor'. Of course at the time I wanted to smack him right in the face, however, now......I really think that he was right. So what does a rage filled, mother of 4, studying a literature degree do to empty her rage box??? Suggestions on a post card please :) This proves the power of fiction. A few chapters of a book have allowed me to take a step back and look at myself in a new light. Something's got to change. I need to re-evaluate my life and decide what's most important to me. A clean, tidy house............or my mental health and my wonderful family.
I vote for my family and I can't wait to finish the book! =)
The Mentalist =) x