Hello, I'm feeling a little punchy today.  I don't feel bad about any of the following:

• I am still obsessed with this Katrina issue, and yes, I think we should still be talking about it and sending those people some clean underwear. 
• The little angel loves the Emerald City so much that sometimes she doesn't want to leave, and I am happy about it.
• I leave the little angel every Tuesday night with her sports-watching father so that I can go spend four hours teaching people who don't want to learn how to write logical position essays.
• I secretly wish everyone wanted to read all the unpublished garbage loading up my computer hard drive.
• I don't really care that we lost an entire refrigerator and freezer full of food last night because I really didn't want to eat that bison anyway.
• My nails look like shit.
• I can't make my bangs look proper, and so I don't even try.
• Most days, I do not wear any make-up at all and parade around Kansas City in a t-shirt and gym shorts.
• I wish my friends would take better care of their hearts.
• I wish my co-workers would have to do my job for oh, about three hours, while listening to them on the phone with a shitty cell-phone connection and the beginnings of an ulcer.
• I call my mother damn near every day.
• I love it that she called around Kansas City looking for dry ice for my refrigerator, even though that would probably blow our entire house up.
• I think the little angel is cuter than many other children.
• I hope she does not develop an affinity for organized sports.
• Part of me hopes she will develop my husband's sanguine, everything-will-be-all-right personality and not my navel-gazing, let's-overanalyze-the-world's-problems-until-we're-all-depressed-and-shit soul.

Okay.  Enough for one day.  But I don't feel bad.  Not one bit,.