My dad was telling my mom (I was eavesdropping) about a friend’s kids’ recent tribulations and how they freaked out. They’re always freaking out, both of ‘em, according to their mother.

These people, the freakers, are in their 30s; parents to a new batch of freakers.

Admittedly, I used to be a bit of a freaker. I’ve chucked golf clubs, punched things, and thrown tantrums (with or without F Bombs) loud enough to cause their own freak outs. As in, Holy shit I’ve never seen this side of him....ugh.

I don’t have any freak outs left in me, they’ve all been ground down by life. I find myself under-reacting now. Sometimes, a little piece of me welcomes a new batch of shit because I know, I’ll be alright and life will go on. 

Appropriately, I just heard a neighbor, father of two, yell “God-damn-it!” It was slowish, three separate words. Their house is not that close.

I’ve also spent a lot of time alone over the years, and I’ve learned what may be obvious, if there’s no one to hear it, why bother. Freaking out alone, as an adult, really made me feel stupid.