The Rage

This week I have been very quiet on the blog front. The reason for this is tough to share cos it doesn’t paint me in a fabulous Monet type picture. But here it goes.

I have been a raging bitch. Don’t ask me why, I wish I knew. But it’s been a rough week emotionally and for anyone out there thinking “women issues”, that has already been suggested by various friends and is NOT the reason. I can’t actually think of one particular thing that might have triggered it all off, it might just be a build up of a lot of small – medium type stuff.

Upon reflection, the big red flag of bad things to come, was probably the whole experience with my new phone, (see post below), cos things just didn’t really pick up from there. Let me recap a few of the rages.

1 . While driving around the mall parking lot the other day, I spotted a car about to pull out of a prime parking space, right near the mall entrance. Now, I am never this lucky with mall parking, I always end up in the spots far, far away. But today my luck was in and I sat and waited with my indicator flashing, so as to indicate my intention to park in said prime space. Now, enter from the opposite direction a man in fancy, schmancy black Mercedes. He stops a few feet from the same space and turns on his indicator to indicate his intention to take my spot. Then he has the nerve to use some amateur sign language to tell me its his spot. He points to the spot, then to himself, which I interpret as “spot, mine”. Oh hells no. So in my own amateur sign skills, I shake my head from side to side and point at myself, “you must be joking, right? Spot, well and truly mine”.
So the car in the space starts to back out and wouldn’t you know he backs out at an angle that puts me at a total disadvantage and opens up the way for Mr. Shiny Black Merc to slip right in. Cue the rage. Wow, was I seeing red. Mr. Shiny Black Merc parks, jumps out of the car, will absolutely not look in my direction and bolts off towards the mall. I am not taking this lying down and I drive after the f*#ker. I am totally locked in on my target, I see nothing else, I hear nothing else. I pull up next to his ass, I roll down my window and I tell this jerk exactly what I think of him. He has the complete nerve to try and convince me he was there first. I want to jump out of my car and punch him I’m so angry.

2. Am shopping at Target getting some much needed bits and pieces for the house, but have a “To-Do” list as long as your arm of other things I need to get done this particular day. So I am speeding through the aisles picking up my various items. Once I’m ready to checkout, I choose the register with the shortest line. The register lady, Margaret, says the usual, “hello, did you find everything you need?” to which I give my standard “Yes, thank you” response. Then Margaret sees that I’m buying a box of Splenda, the sugar substitute stuff and says, “You need to be careful with this, did you see the special warning on the side?”. “No”, I say. “Well, I use to use it a lot, but I had to stop cos it had a very (at this point she lowers her voice to a whisper and mouths some word at me) effect on me.” Me, getting frustrated with the idle chitchat and my time crunch, say, “I’m sorry it had a what?” She mouths the word again, but this time her whisper is more audible, “laxative, it had a laxative effect on me.” Oh for the love of god Margaret. What was it about me that made it look like I was the type of person, that wanted to hear about you and your pooping issues… seriously?? Luckily, I didn’t get these words out of my mouth, I just looked at her blankly. “Just be careful is all I’m saying”, she said. Ok, great, now I have all kinds of nasty mental imagery about Margaret going on in my brain and I don’t appreciate it one little bit.

3. Then there was the front desk person who told us it would be a 20-minute wait for a table and after 40 minutes we enquired about the delay and were told, “Oops, we appear to have skipped over your name”. Not music to the ears of a very hungry girl. I tried very hard to convey how pissed off I was by my stone cold facial expression and aggressive eyes.

4. My poor friend who was on the receiving end of a rage, when I was trying to relay a story about something that happened and he insisted on chiming in repeatedly with speculation and guesses as to what he thought happened or was said, causing me stop again and again mid story. The frustration was building and eventually I had to pull him into check, “would you just shut up for a second and let me get the story out, then all your predictions and questions will be answered, lord”.

So these are just a few examples of the kind of week I’ve been struggling through. I must emphasize that I am absolutely no saint. The sun does not jump up and smile upon me, the little birds to not flutter and sing around my happy head and the flowers most certainly do not bloom under my feet as I walk, but I assure you, I am not always this ball of anger and aggression. Something is up and I just can’t pinpoint the source. But if it doesn’t present itself soon, it may be too late and I will be left with all the time in the world to ponder the whole issue from my jail cell or from my hospital bed in the room with the padded walls.