I stew. My blood boils. I want to snap tree trunks in half. I want to take a sledgehammer and destroy doors and windows. I want to take expensive electronics and hurl them so they shatter into a million pieces. A therapist once suggested that I throw ice cubes against a brick wall. I would love to tell her now, sweetie, that’s small time. It’s like a mist when I feel like a monsoon.
To all the rude, obnoxious, and impatient customers out there: !@#$%^&*!@#$% ^&*!@#$%^&!@#$% ^&*!@#$%^&*!@#$%^&*@#$%^&*!!!!!!!!! What I want to say, isn’t even legal to think. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve this.
When I get home from work, I can feel all of the stress tension in my neck, back and shoulders. I can feel my heart rate still elevated and my body tense. I’m still contemplating the horrible things I could do that would destroy my frustration. When I get to be this angry, I get irrational. I spend money. I eat junk food. I wish I had a car so I could drive fast.
Oh, how the exhilaration of a roaring engine from zero to sixty
thrills me.
Even a tamer zero
to forty-five.
There is something about just pulling away
from every thing I hate
at such a rate
that I enjoy.
Something about letting the dust settle,
after I am gone.
Taking a drive
not recklessly
but aimlessly
calms my mind,
and frees me from that bond.
Not sure why I just broke out into a poem there. Wow. That was the first time after a long time, and after a major dry spell too. Lol. Goodnight.
