Anger Mismanagement

You ever just have an angry day?

I'm not typically an angry guy. I get frustrated like anyone, don't get me wrong. Sometimes when I'm sitting in LA traffic, particularly if I have somewhere semi-important to be, I will punch the steering wheel in frustration. I really should stop doing this, not because it has any negative impact on the car, but because each time I nearly shatter each and every one of my hand bones.

Also, sometimes it makes the horn go off, causing all the other frustrated drivers to turn around and glare at me like I just choked a koala to death with my bare hands while quoting "Mein Kampf" from memory.

Zoologists visiting the Inertia should note with some measure of admiration that I correctly used the term "koala" rather than the more pedestrian and misleading "koala bear."

But I mean to say that, under normal circumstances, I am not a particularly angry person. I don't go around punching people, or even threatening to, and even when I'm intoxicated, I don't think of myself as aggressive or violent in any way, really. I knew a guy in college who was the most normal, everyday, likable, friendly kind of person when sober, but when he would drink, he would start fights, throw stuff at people and even, one time, jump on top a stranger's car, denting it, and then attempt to start a fight with them.

Today, on the other hand, all bets were off. I guess it has something to do with my considerable lower back pain, owing to the as-yet-unhealed cyst I discussed in perhaps disturbing detail yesterday. But I also just think this has been brewing for a week or so. I've worked a whole bunch in the past two weeks, and working retail kind of brings with it a natural cycle of anger and relaxation.

Plus, I was having one of those days where it seemed like the physical world existed only to mock my incompetance.

I had to lug a large cumbersome package of Laserdiscs up and down Pico to the post office 3 times. Once because they had not yet opened, once because the post office lady told me I had calculated the postage wrong (I had not), and once more because my boss told me to. I'm kind of hazy on there wherewithals and the whytofor's on that last one. Working at a video store's a lot like being in the army, except we string people up and beat them with electrical wire somewhat less often.

Plus traffic was bad, there was a long line everywhere I went (like the gas station, post office, Boston Market...you get where I'm going with this). And did I mention there's a spot on my back that feels as if those scarabs from The Mummy have set up a small but workable residence?

So, I did what every reasonable person does when they have a lot of extra anger built up. I hit my desk really hard, and nearly shattered every bone in my hand. And then I went on my blog and bitched to you fine people for a few minutes. Now, I wonder if there's anything small in here I could break and not miss later...