Joy. And love. I'm tired of the inner me scowling each time I receive certain instructions. I feel as though we share the equivalent of the frequencies that traverses between a chicken and a duck. Something within incites me to grit my teeth, look up to the heavens, and mutter the word "honestly", with much chagrin. Rebellious nature at work? A grudge that's still surreptitiously lurking in the depths of my heart?

Has it always been within my means to execute the given requests? Yes. So why does it irk me so, when I'm more than available to carry out an assigned duty (and then some, but with shame I admit that I don't), to be asked to do something which only serves to evolve a situation from an A-B-A into A-B-C-A? Why why why? Why do I keep asking why? Gaaarrggh.

*glums*