It's Not OK To Be Angry On Fridays

Each morning I walk N over to the bus, you know, to make sure some crazy pedophiles don't grab her in the five minutes it takes to walk from my door to the corner. Hey, this is still Brooklyn, however gentrified. YOU NEVER KNOW.

Each morning we hear yelling, scolding and fighting coming from one of the houses in front of the bus stop. Without fail. I mean, I don't know what misery lies behind those doors, but it kind of has me wishing I knew Hebrew or Yiddish so that I can understand what all the hubbub is about. Right now it just sounds like angry gibberish.

N and I decided, last Friday, that there's no reason to start the day like that, especially with the weekend about to unfold in front of you. Like, who does that? And ESPECIALLY as you're prepping for shabbat? Chill, Mordechai. Hug your wife. Smile. H-shem has bestowed upon you another day to make wondrous things happen. Do so, with arms outstretched. Your day of atonement approaches.



Happy weekend, folks!

*smooches...hoping our good cheer spreads around*
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no, seriously, these people fight every. freakin. morning. it's so sad!