Today is Ash Wednesday. I know this because I am occasionally religious and because my mom is a certified black-belt Catholic.

Even if you aren’t a strict Catholic, you know two things about Lent:
1. No meat on Fridays
2. You’ve gotta give something up

Not eating meat isn’t a problem for me. I played vegetarian for about 5 years during college. The hardest part for me isn’t NOT eating meat, it’s remembering to not eat meat. That already happened this afternoon (no meat on Ash Wednesday either!). I called mom to ask her when her church was having ashes services while I was in the drive-thru line at Bill Miller’s. I told her to hold on as I yelled into the speaker that I wanted a Salad Delight (sounds magical, no?) with white meat chicken on it. I then had to tell the Bill Miller lady that “no no no no no wait” I didn’t want that, thanks to mom yelling at me that I couldn’t eat meat today. I ordered chicken while talking about getting ashes for Lent. So, the first meal of Lent and I already almost BLEW IT. Sorry, tiny baby Jesus.

What I’m giving up is anger and aggression. I’m going to calm down while driving. At work, instead of blowing up and yelling at who I deem fit, I’m going to quietly say what I need to then walk away. I’ll deal with my younger brother in a more civil and humanitarian way. When the dogs bump my elbow, totally RUINING my game of Bejeweled Blitz, I’ll see it as their need for my love. A part of me thrives on aggression (passive or outright) and I do realize that it does cause problems for me… so… I’ll try to fix it.

Anyway, that’s the plan. So far, I’m still calm though a little broken. I’ve been faced with several things since this morning that I should’ve (very much so) thrown a fit over. The Breanne of yesterday would have had 3-4 bitch-festivals already. For the next 40 days, though, I’m like a ship sailing on glassy smooth seas.