You are angry again. I don’t know why but you are taking it out on everyone around you. The cat, the dog, and me. You just yelled at the cat like she did something horrendous and it was you that stepped on her tail. The dog heard your tone and cowered in a corner. I suddenly wanted to hide under a rock. Wished I had a car to take the dog and go somewhere else. You already kicked the cat out so she was hiding somewhere safe already. I can’t take your anger at the world. I don’t like the punishment of not knowing what I’ve done wrong or not done wrong. Usually falling into a category of not having done anything wrong and you just being in a foul mood. I’m sorry you are angry at the world. I’m sorry you are angry at dad for dying and leaving you here alone. I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you wish you had. I’m sorry I’m not married with children. I’m sorry neither of your children have given you grandchildren. I’m sorry your life isn’t what you thought it was going to be. Mine isn’t either, but stop taking it out on the three of us that live with you.