Today I complained. I spoke to a friend wishing happy New Years yada yada, and then I complained. Just the usual midlife crisis complaints as one does. And at some point thereafter my friend responded with some unexpected good life news, and I was happy for my friend, and feeling embarrassed about having complained. Very embarrassed. How unattractive and unappealing it must have seemed. It is so easy to allow the words to tumble out. But from now I will try my very, very best to keep them locked away forever. Except for in poetry. Always poetry. Poetry for therapy.