I have had the opportunity to participate in a writing group this month.  The following excerpt is from one of my entries:

There are some days I am unable to behave better.  I know I should.  I should just dust off that Super Woman cape and make it happen.  But I can’t.  I just can’t.  I can’t behave better.

Besides, sometimes I don’t want to.  I don’t want to behave better.  In fact, I relish the idea of behaving badly.  It would be so fun to be as bad as I want to be.  To scream and yell and kick my feet and tell the truth to the world.  Yes, I fantasize about behaving badly.  Can I have my turn, please?

But, I don’t.  I don’t do those things that I wish I could.

And yet, sometimes, I do other things.  And I am ashamed.

I wish I could be stronger, more, better.  But, I am just not there.  Yet.  My humanness wins out and undoes my higher self.  I am unable to behave better.