A few weeks ago during a conversation with one of my very close, wise, and kindred-who-gives-a-flying-patoot-what-anyone-else-thinks friend, I decided that I would not have any serious discussions (especially with my sweetheart) after 8:30 pm.
Really, who wants anything too heavy before bedtime, whether it be a big dish of pasta, or a big ol’ cup of pissed-off? Nobody. You know why? Because you just can’t digest anything that late. It repeats on you, and leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
In favour of letting my anxiety get the best of me, I’ve decided to let it go. Until I get moving the next morning anyway, and since I’m really not a morning person, that means sometime after 10am.
With all of that designated, “No Bitching” time, I’ve discovered a couple of things. First of all, I’m happier. As in way happier. I’m not such a snowballing mess of fear and anxiety. Second of all, it’s given me way more time to be grateful.
So if you’re a Type-A-worrying-control-freak, give it a try. You may just find some joy.