I've been my usual ultra-cheerful, emotionally stable self today. I wrote this in my journal:
Sometimes I really, really want to be angry - to be vicious, and to enjoy being so - to take mirth and joy in beating somebody down and shoving in their face that they're wrong, wrong, wrong and misguided and pathetic for even considering what they were doing to be right. To enjoy a well-crafted lie that ends up being hyperreally true. To be justified in everything I do. It would ultimately end up feeling hollow, and make myself willingly and happily and bitterly and miserably.
I can only think of one time in the past year where my anger flared up anywhere even approaching that point (on my birthday, actually.) I haven't actually blown my top since '00.