The three-year-olds should not run the preschool

I didn't get up and run this morning. Roommate and boyfriend came home last night and were up past midnight like they always are slamming doors, cabinets and toilet seats. I want to get all passive aggressive and go slam that little office door about 20 times at six a.m. See how they feel about it.

I have to practice acceptance and I have to look at my resentments here. What am I holding onto? What principle? What shoulds am I forcing here?
 I'm really really really good at getting out of shit that I don't like: jobs and relationships and apartments. I have no problem with going. It's the staying I have a problem with. I just always assume every situation is unchangeable and I have no say so therefore I have to "take it or leave it." There is no middle ground. I guess I learned in my house it was take it or leave it and I had little to no say. Not that mom was a dictator, but I don't remember having a lot of say in things. My opinion and wants were not solicited. Now, whether mom knew what my wants and needs were. I don't know. I don't remember. I didn't have an unhappy childhood. No, that's not my point. But she was in charge. I guess as a mother should be. The three-year-olds should not run the preschool or it's all play and birthday cake and no naps.

At eleven forty five today, I'm heading into the city to volunteer. I ate more than this yesterday. I just didn't have the camera out.

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