hysanadu

I really need to go hit something that can't be hurt and won't hit back.

This is one of those times I wish Bachelor Island (the two floor house on the South Side of Chicago I lived in for about six years with my friends I've known since high school) hadn't fallen apart. Back in the day we had an entire exercise machine in the basement, and a punching bag. I mean, an actual heavy Rocky-style punching bag. I used to scrape my knuckles on it daily, when I worked at my old job.

Kicking it was extremely satisfying, too. I can't stress that enough. Try it sometime.

So, so angry.

I sometimes wish I had stayed there rather than moving in with my girlfriend, but the truth is, that neighborhood was going to the thugs and idiot fratboy wannabes. It was only a matter of time before someone shot through our window or picked a fight with us. When I was moving some of my stuff out, the next door neighbor's pit bull (!!) tried to break into our basement through one of the windows. I was really afraid he'd squeeze through the screen part of the thick glass window and attack me and my friend Ty. It was insane.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Frustrated beyond all rationality.