Sometimes? Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.
Today has been a challenging day. Got to work late, company main database is kaput. All systems down, literally. This leaves me with almost zero work to do. You'd think this would be a positive, but today is just one of those days where one positive thing isn't enough to keep my mind floating amongst the rolling waves of negativity. What's that you say? Overly dramatic? Me? Naaahhh.
Really, though, I'm not exaggerating. I have been furious all day, for very few reasons. Most notably, my trip out for lunch (which was quite late in the day, whoops). Sometimes I just forget about the whole midday meal concept, until I'm reminded by a wicked case of stomach thunder wrapped in the swaddling clothes of cranky lightheadedness.
I went 2 blocks to Corner Bakery (in which time my hair had a grand mal seizure and absorbed approximately 8.5 pounds of airborne moisture, puffing up to dimensions yet to be researched by modern man) and got in line. 15 minutes (!) later, I walked up to a register, and was informed that the credit/debit card machines were down. 5 minute (and one stern discussion with the store manager) later, I went to Chipotle for a chicken-burrito-bol-no-rice-black-beans-mild-salsa-cheese-that's-all-thank-you. By the time I got back to the office and opened the bag, I realized I was carrying a black bean bomb. Obviously the Chipotle employee packaging up the to-go orders was too busy carrying on a conversation with the tortilla warming guy (he was cute) to actually AFFIX the top on my burrito bol.
Suddenly, I was furious. Teeth-grinding, red-faced, seethingly furious. All it took was a trip for lunch that SHOULD have taken 15 minutes maximum - yet I endured a whopping 45, thanks in part to slow-ass tourists and oblivious stroller drivers.
The worst part of all? I got angry at myself for being so upset. Why do I always take myself so seriously? Who are these sick and twisted people who have enough balance in their lives to shirk off events like my lunch field trip? I cannot dismiss irritation like that with a shrug and a giggle. Instead, I fester and boil. It's unnecessary, and probably quite unhealthy, and yet I do it. Repeatedly.
I should be able to put my hair into a ponytail, eat my damn lunch, and just shut up. I should be able to be grateful for my food, and my fortune, and my health. But when I step around the fifteenth geriatric tour bus participant, I sort of lose sight of that. And by "lose sight," I mean "go completely blind."
Okay, these parentheticals and incomplete metaphors need to end. I'm so angry and frustrated that I'm not even making sense. This is ridiculous. I'll probably just delete this entry in a few hours. Aaargh.
Somebody please enlighten me with some strategies on how to CALM THE MOTHERLOVING HELL DOWN, ALREADY.
Today has been a challenging day. Got to work late, company main database is kaput. All systems down, literally. This leaves me with almost zero work to do. You'd think this would be a positive, but today is just one of those days where one positive thing isn't enough to keep my mind floating amongst the rolling waves of negativity. What's that you say? Overly dramatic? Me? Naaahhh.
Really, though, I'm not exaggerating. I have been furious all day, for very few reasons. Most notably, my trip out for lunch (which was quite late in the day, whoops). Sometimes I just forget about the whole midday meal concept, until I'm reminded by a wicked case of stomach thunder wrapped in the swaddling clothes of cranky lightheadedness.
I went 2 blocks to Corner Bakery (in which time my hair had a grand mal seizure and absorbed approximately 8.5 pounds of airborne moisture, puffing up to dimensions yet to be researched by modern man) and got in line. 15 minutes (!) later, I walked up to a register, and was informed that the credit/debit card machines were down. 5 minute (and one stern discussion with the store manager) later, I went to Chipotle for a chicken-burrito-bol-no-rice-black-beans-mild-salsa-cheese-that's-all-thank-you. By the time I got back to the office and opened the bag, I realized I was carrying a black bean bomb. Obviously the Chipotle employee packaging up the to-go orders was too busy carrying on a conversation with the tortilla warming guy (he was cute) to actually AFFIX the top on my burrito bol.
Suddenly, I was furious. Teeth-grinding, red-faced, seethingly furious. All it took was a trip for lunch that SHOULD have taken 15 minutes maximum - yet I endured a whopping 45, thanks in part to slow-ass tourists and oblivious stroller drivers.
The worst part of all? I got angry at myself for being so upset. Why do I always take myself so seriously? Who are these sick and twisted people who have enough balance in their lives to shirk off events like my lunch field trip? I cannot dismiss irritation like that with a shrug and a giggle. Instead, I fester and boil. It's unnecessary, and probably quite unhealthy, and yet I do it. Repeatedly.
I should be able to put my hair into a ponytail, eat my damn lunch, and just shut up. I should be able to be grateful for my food, and my fortune, and my health. But when I step around the fifteenth geriatric tour bus participant, I sort of lose sight of that. And by "lose sight," I mean "go completely blind."
Okay, these parentheticals and incomplete metaphors need to end. I'm so angry and frustrated that I'm not even making sense. This is ridiculous. I'll probably just delete this entry in a few hours. Aaargh.
Somebody please enlighten me with some strategies on how to CALM THE MOTHERLOVING HELL DOWN, ALREADY.
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