wst february 23. argue.

argue.

Whenever I argue with anyone, I later regret it—even if I know I was right. (I’m always right.) (Just kidding.) (No, I’m not.)

Frustration. Guilt. Sadness. Those are the things I feel after an argument. And an argument never seems to resolve the issue anyway.

(I’m gonna have to side with Susie on this one. Sorry, Calvin.)

Maybe I should never argue again and start using the phrase, “agree to disagree” all the time instead.

If only I could remember that in the heat of the moment.

(click image to view larger)

No argument here.

p.s. — Had another argument with my daughter yesterday. All it did was make me feel like crap. She says she’s right. I say I’m right. No one budges. But… she blamed me for the whole thing. Again. Ugh. Agree to disagree.

About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, sometimes blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Italy, but she would settle for a non-oceanfront home in Italy. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.

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