About this time I realized that I had become seriously hooked on the high of being pissed off all the time. I was a rage addict. I had kept everything so pent up for so long in order to avoid rocking the boat that the thrill of  being openly angry was beginning to interfere with my every day life. (I was never once ever cross with my daughter – there were plenty of other targets around.) If nothing during the course of day organically happened to set me off, I started picking fights with the ex, getting into scuffles at clubs, yelling at other drivers, and just generally careening out of control. Aside from the pure adrenaline, I realized that it was just another way to surrender control to other people. I had nothing going on inside, so if I could find someone to piss me off, then I could fill up the little hollow chocolate rabbit of my soul with some anger – or at least some righteous indignation. If they pissed me off, that wasn’t my fault. They are idiots, I’m reacting rationally to their stupidity. That I actively sought out. I had to make a conscious decision to channel energy into more positive things. Like getting hott boys to make out with me.