It's noted that after the outburst, comes the lull, the calm. I realised there is no good out of getting angry. You only hurt yourself, while the perpetrator gets off scot-free.
So I'm singing today, bought my stuff though a tad expensive. Having a slight cough. Must be the weather, but I am surviving. Thinking of my writing, my studies, my office work, playing soccer this weekend and running Mount Faber next weekend, in random order.
Back to reading fiction. At this point, reading Franz Kafka's The Trial, long awaited.