In Need Of A Scapegoat

Lileks, describing my mood this week (really need to beat up some people or at least rant at them, but mustn't.)

Pounded flat as a tin sheet tonight, and short with my daughter, which always gives me pangs of instant regret. Never, ever take out your mood on your family. It’s the easiest thing to do and the least forgivable; they’re the ones to whom you owe your best self. The fact that they’re closest obligates you to be extra careful. Of course, you can’t take out your bad mood on your co-workers; what did they do? (Unless they did something. Even then.) You can yell at the dog, but to him it’s just blah-blah dominance-racket from Mister Alpha. Talk to the paw. [and we don't even have a dog, we have mice-- highly unsatisfying as whipping boys] You can take it out on strangers, but then you’re abrogating your part in the social compact. You know where this is leading, don’t you? That’s right: the clocktower, with a rifle.

Or to Confession, infinitely preferable, but more difficult in a blizzard.