13 Sep

I’m habitually angry.  I don’t know if it’s innate, or if I’ve just been in a bad mood for the past 29 years and it’s going to pass soon.  All I know is that I probably spend 90% of my day pissed off at someone or something.  (I’ve always thought that was normal.  Doesn’t everyone kind of walk around angry all the time?  No?  Just me?  Fabulous.)

Even if it’s not at the forefront, it’s there.  A quiet little rage, sleeping in the corner.  It was Foster who first pointed out to me that hey, not everyone is angry all the time.  To be honest, I hadn’t even noticed how angry I was until he said something.  (I’m not that great at reading people and figuring them out, myself included.)  But now that he’s mentioned it, I’ve noticed it.

I’m angry about all of the injustices in the world, and I hate intolerance.  Insert joke here.  I dislike stupidity and their cousins bad grammar, bad spelling, and incorrect punctuation*.  I can deal with LOL speak, but only in small doses.  Very few Republicans don’t piss me off.  A good majority of Christians (though not all!) piss me off.  And don’t even get me started on Creationists or people who believe the Bible (any version of it) to be literal.

Slow driving makes me livid.  I can’t stand it when someone moves my laundry out of the washer but fails to put it into the dryer.  And I have actually lost track of the number of angry e-mails I’ve sent to various companies and government agencies:  Wendy’s (for closing early), Taco Bell (for screwing up my order), the City of Houston’s waste management department (for picking up the trash and leaving the can in the middle of my driveway).  Yet receiving angry e-mails from listeners always sets me off, because it doesn’t matter how much YOU hate THAT song, because there are 20,000 people who like it, and 20,000 > 1.  Sorry.

And today, I’m feeling that anger.  Oh, yes … I’m in touch with it.  It began with one of the four animals who live in the house peeing on the rug in the dining room.  And then I got to work and the (free!) soda machine was broken.  Then the bottle machine took my money.  Someone kept turning the lights off in the adjoining studio, which even though it’s currently empty, houses the thermostat, meaning the lights need to be on so that my studio with all of it’s hot electronic equipment doesn’t get hot.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.

I’m torn between wanting to go to the gym and work off a bit of the anger, and wanting to go home and curl up with an ice cream cone.  Believe me, I got up this morning planning on going to the gym.  Except that I forgot my iPod.  Can you imagine 30 minutes on an elliptical machine with nothing but the heavy breathing of the dude next to you to occupy your time?  Needless to say, I’m working on talking myself into going to the gym.  It’s an uphill battle, though.

*Just because I dislike it doesn’t mean those things won’t occasionally make their way into this blog.


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