This week the therapist wondered if I was depressed.

I got some bad new last week about the way I’m working with my team, from my team.

I’m not sure how things will work out but I’m definitely angry.

And that anger works like a slow moving poison, waking me at night the way alcohol processed into sugar by the liver would wake me in my younger days.

I’d like to care less.

To just say, this is how it will be.

But I’m not built that way.

In the past, I’d look for a new job: Fuck these assholes, I have better things to do.

Naturally, it may come to that.

Except that I’m not there now. Now I have something to prove. And some direct action to take.

I might know what the outcome is most desirable, but I can’t future trip on it.

(It rarely turns out the way I imagine it anyway.)

The road to the right thing starts with doing what’s next.

Carefully. Methodically. Responsively.

And let what happens… happen.

The universe tends to know the way.

Who am I to question its direction?