Becoming exceedingly aware that no one thinks like I do.
No one operates the way I do.
That's where frustration comes in--in the failure of meeting expectations; of you, of me, for you, for me.
I'm ok with this, I think. Just taking everything in.
I mean, if we thought or worked the same, we would have nothing to fight about and that would be dull. Boring even. Compatible? Meh. I just wish we thought a smidgen more similar. Just a tad.
Next week will bring fresh air. Until then, I will let my lungs grow stale.