Max Riffner

The Parlor

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Kissy Kissy

I know something isn’t quite sitting right with me when I cut off a piece of white trash on the interstate, and then proceed to make kissy faces at him when he gets next to me to flip me off.

He didn’t like that.

I’m on a short fuse lately, and I’m not sure why.

Both of my grandmothers have been doing poorly. One of them has been in the hospital for the last several weeks from a collapsed lung. It was a complication after burning a tumor out in her lungs. She’s out now. I’m pretty low on the stress totem pole, but it does drain the whole family.

I keep looking at my accounts, personal and business, and keep wondering what I can do better. I can’t help but feel like I’m not good enough for some reason. Even though I’m creating some of my best and most rewarding work right now, I’m not feeling it. Just another little thing picking at the recesses of my brain.

Tonight, Quincy was uncooperative on a walk and I picked him up and took him home after only walking one house away. I was mad for no real reason. We went back five minutes later after I cooled down and we ran around the block. He was great that time, and I felt better also. Maybe I just need a timeout to calm down in general. Give it all another go after a chance to get my head straight?

Or maybe I just like making kissy faces.

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