I jumped in my car this morning to go to work and I drove the twisty, curvey, back-roads by my house at between 50-70 miles an hour. It felt good. But I wish i'd had one of my old celicas instead of a fatass buick lesabre. Admitedly it is a 6 cylinder engine, and it might be faster than my celica was, but it's big and heavy and it's an automatic. It's just no fun to drive. The celica was small, tight, and manual.
One good part about anger is that I can use it well to focus my mind.
I was incredibly sad. Then I was angry. Now I'm going into the grief stage. *sigh*