I am Irish, or at least my temper is (most of me is too, hence the swearing, drinking, falling down). Now, I am all for all things Irish, love the people, love the whiskey, love the country. But the temper, the damn temper. I could do without. I think that it goes hand in hand with my (lack of) patience, but the jury is still out on that one. I really cannot stand being short-tempered, particularly when it comes to my little girl(s). (The baby has not made me lose it yet, but she is trying!) The hard part about the temper is that I feel so bad after I blow up, but then I beg for forgiveness and move on. All the while those people left in the wake of my outburst are still reeling and might not ever get over it. So yeah, that is the one characteristic that needs to be yanked from my DNA.
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