I’m so frustrated today.
I’m so frustrated and pissed off and AARGH! about life that I want to make a list of people to karate chop in the throat, exact my revenge in a throat-punching spree, and then get back to my regularly scheduled programming. But I won’t.
Mostly because I can’t.
Today, I am mad at my computer, or the server, or whatever is causing this problem with my school’s website that I can’t seem to fix even with Biscuit’s expert help. Also, I’m mad at me, for various reasons, and karate chopping myself in the throat doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.
So I sit here and pound out emails with too many exclamation points (My mother does this, too. It’s genetic.), with eyes narrowed and my face all scrunched up so that my eyebrows nearly touch each other in unibrow solidarity. Like Frida Kahlo. Or Bert.
And I will keep my eyes glued to the computer screen. Othewise, they will get me in trouble.
Newman told me once that it didn’t matter what came out of my mouth because I did all my talking “from here on up.â€ù When he said “here,â€ù he flattened his hand and made a sawing motion across the bridge of his nose.
“So, what you’re saying is I’m a terrible liar?â€ù
He nodded. I drank. And I considered how many times I’d been given away and not even known it.
Like that time my (ex)boss said, “You’re angry with me.â€ù And I said, “No, of course not,â€ù in a tone that was as even and as pleasant as a Gerber baby’s ass cheek. But of course I was angry. Furious, even. And my eyes said everything.
Boss: You’re angry with me.
Heather: No, of course not.
Heather’s Eyes: Oh, yes she is. She’s consumed with anger. And if she could do that Darth Vader thing and crush your throat with her mind, she wouldn’t hesitate. That shit doesn’t leave prints! But as she is currently without The Force (and hates the thought of unemployment), she’s going to have to settle for thinking mean thoughts and pounding out emails with excessive punctuation. Oh, and those shoes? Really horrible.
So as I sit here and smolder and silently scream “Why, god, why!â€ù I give a thankful pause that no one has invented laser beam contact lenses. ‘Cause after a day like today, I’d have a lot of death and destruction to make up for.
Let your blood boil – it’s good for the soul.
I like you pissed off. It reads well.
I had a day like that on Tuesday. I boycotted Bloomingdales as a result of it. It broke my heart, but it was necessary.
Too bad you can’t boycott your boss.
But is it really so great to be a good liar? Unless you’re a spy;)
Rant, rave, shake your fist at the sky. That sounds very heathly. I just can’t help be reminded about Dooce’s on-line trouble she got into a few years ago.
Except that this was my boss at my lat job — over a year ago. Can’t get dooced from a job you quit!
I suggest some deep diaphramatic breathing. You breathe from the stomach, not the upper chest. Sure, it makes you look about 4 months pregnant each time you inhale, but it reduces your heat rate, and provides more oxygen to the blood. Try it, it works.
Hope you don’t get pissed at the unsolicited advice!
Thanks – I was feeling EXACTLY the same way (and probably looked more similar to Frida and Bert than I’d care to), but you have cheered me up. I think I’ll go get a smoothie now!
But it’s Friday now. There’s wine to be had, chick movies to see, and at the very least, an eyebrow theader to tuck things back into order. Sorry I missed you before I left, my sweet.
OMG you must be a long lost cousin of mine or something because my family has the same “genetic” look. I swear all my Aunts and my mother could give you a look that would make you stop in your tracks and beg for mercy, even if you weren’t guilty.
Treat yourself to a fun girls night with lots of drinks and hopefully all will be well Monday morning!
OMG I’m the same way. My eyes give everything away. I’m a crap liar. Why everyone considers this a bad thing is beyond me. Have a good weekend!
I just love that this post came right on the tails of the one about how nice you are these days. (I’ve had a day or two like that myself this week. I treated myself to a couple of daquiris. And a smut novel. Totally worked.)
My mother, unlike Forest Gump’s, gives wonderfuly useful advice. Her life motto is “When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping!”
I am also a bad liar. I can lie with my mouth but never my eyes, especially to those who know me well.
I feel you, fish.
Funny, I just wrote a post about this. My boyfriend can’t lie with his eyes, either.
hormones?
Do. Not. Scrunch. Eyebrows. Will. Cause. Wrinkles.
I was thinking the same thing about the wrinkles. Be angry and use exclamation points, it requires less cosmetics.
It’s best that I, too, lack The Force because when I get in moods like that much destruction would happen that I’d regret.
I loved reading the story and wanted more. Thank you for the smile and now the knowledge that I am not alone!
Hope your fury has now eased/found relatively harmless release and that its cause can be/has been eliminated/handled.
Hey – you do exclamation marks; I do forward slashes. So shoot me with your laser beam contact lenses!
;o)
I have the same condition. If I’m upset, I have a friend that will take one look at me and say “you browin’ today!?!?”