Greetings! While doing today's work, free writing in my journal (I use the Penzu online journal), on one topic, I remembered a different time: I'd been called for jury duty, but not selected for the jury. Later that day, my dad told me that I was not chosen because I'd answered something incorrectly, as if it were a test I'd failed. (The lawyer had asked us what kind of magazines we read, and apparently my needlecraft reading was not relevant to the case. I had no problem with that, and the court house cafe had great cheese-crisps, so it had been a nice day until I got home.) Was this incident representative of the kind of logic I grew up with? If so, how could I ever have satisfied him? I know that I've also earned his admiration over the years, in spite of having chosen a path he could never have imagined. But he was a perfectionist, and handed that down nicely to his daughters, even if he didn't always make sense. Now I live with others who with great frequency have illogical expectations, and my anger flares reflexively. And, then, of course, they are clueless about my reactions, and can only conclude that I am a nut. So, I close my mouth and get sick. Thanks for reading!