for shame.

I hit a door last night. The linen closet door.

In frustration.

I mean, I really smacked the fuck out of that thing.

I've got a bit of a temper, but usually it takes a a lot to get me worked up, and then I start hollering and carrying on nonsensically. Occasionally, I cry. Frustration is one of the only things that makes me cry.

But I never hit things.

I've been known to bust bottles and tip things over for fun, to blow off some steam. Not because I'm pissed,  but because I'm being rebellious, because I don't give a damn, because it thrills me. Because it makes me feel young.

Hitting things, there's no thrill in that. Just impact. The sound is not even as impressive as busting glass. Hitting things doesn't make me feel less frustrated, I found out. It makes me feel even less in control.

I'm on a short fuse lately.

It takes nothing to set me off.

You know why I threw that tantrum? Because that's what it was, a tantrum. I threw it, I hit that damn door because Matt was taking out his contacts and I told him I had to go to the bathroom. I told him and told him and he thought I was playing around, which I wasn't. So he decided to trim his mustache.

Slowly.

Really rub it in that he was taking as long as possible. Messing around with me. He thought it was all just fun and games.

And I had to pee.

And I was not in the opinion that this was fun and games.

I maybe could have held it. Probably, I'm not a toddler.

But instead, I couldn't get him to take me seriously in my pleas, so I took out my aggression on a door frame.

Hard.

And last night we went to bed not speaking to one another. Over something so incredibly stupid that I cannot even make sense of it.

 

I need to get a grip.

driving home.

Sometimes it's necessary to drive practically bludgeon your way ahead of all the other cars to get home as quickly as possible after work. Or, if you're me, you do that every single day, regardless of any real urgency to get home.  This ordeal makes relaxing upon arrival a long and somewhat arduous task, because I key myself up to the point of actually flipping out over someone failing to signal when changing lanes.


I mean, I really, really hate it when people don't use their turn signal. It's DEFINITELY one of the top five things that get under my skin- and to be completely honest, probably one of the least shallow.


I'm not always so rage-filled and anxiety-ridden in the car. I'll never pretend to be an above-average driver, but I can at least say with confidence that the vast majority of the time that I find myself behind the wheel, I'm not an asshole.


But when I'm coming home from work, a time that should be spent unwinding and getting all the clutter of my workday out of my mind so that I can arrive home relaxed to enjoy the people and things in my life with whom I actually get to choose to spend my free time.
Not so much.


You see, I usually arrive home in a mental state that can similarly be depicted by this google image find:

Right, looking like a total babe.






A total babe that's PRIMED AND TOTALLY READY TO PULL A BRITNEY SPEARS CIRCA 2007,  ALL UP OVER MY HOME AND ALL THE NEIGHBORING BUILDINGS.

not *exactly* the 'look' i'm going for these days. sorry, brit.

But seriously, I need to chill out. I've been really thinking about the things that I let get me all worked up and bent out of shape lately that are NOT WORTH IT- And my commute is one of those things. It sets the tone for my day and it sets the tone for my night.


So, I'm not really sure how this goes, but I've got the goal at hand:


Seriously chill out during my hellish commute time so that I don't feel the compulsion to chug an entire of Pinot Greege as soon as I collapse into the door.




Wooooo, red. Feisty, I like it.

Relaxing music? A more scenic route? A repeated/chanted mantra? All probably very likely. Since  I don't smoke anymore, and drinking wine and driving is frowned upon in modern society, I've got to find some other way to relax while driving to and from work.  

You know, enjoying the ride and all that uplifting crap.


I honest-to-god believe that this one little improvement in my life will make me a much happier and altogether more enjoyable person to be around. AHHHH, growth. So, tonight on my drive home I not let myself fuss and fight with the other drivers. I will instead send peaceful vibes into the Universe and sing along to my music and realize that my home will still be there, even if it takes me two minutes longer than usual to make it to the little cement patch my car calls home. I can chill; I can be cool as a motherfucking cucumber.


Unless someone makes the crucial mistake of failing to signal, that's one thing that will take a lot of practice to forgive.




I'm just hoping that one day I won't have to get behind the wheel AT ALL to get to work- until then, just stay out of my way.


XO Sare