PUBLISHED April 24, 2012

The things you do while avoiding the things you should be doing…

I should be asleep right now. Or at least on my way there. The Dom Perignon I sipped before getting in the shower isn’t helping my cause but its the only thing that brought a smile to my face today so I consider it well worth it.

I’m pissed. And yes that is an understatement. Three of six confirmed tenants for my house next year just bailed, and one of them is my best-college-friend, so yeah it cuts deep. In fact, I had this entry already typed out and mistakenly clicked a link on my dashboard which directed me away from this page apparently completely erasing everything I had just wrote. Which is a shame because it sounded nice and I was on a roll. Someone seems to be testing me.

I came home after an 8 AM starting day, after pushing through a bail-out group member for a presentation I had THAT NIGHT and finally sat down to at my computer only to open a damn Facebook group post casually announcing that the three of them would not be living in the house I had ALREADY signed the lease and paid the security deposit for. I have not felt that kind of anger in a long time. I mean the kind that makes your skin hot and your eyes get blurry.

And to be honest, it felt good.

I never realized how much I hold in. Not that I don’t address what upsets me but that I handle things so…well. It felt good to be the one who storms out and creates the uncomfortable moment everyone else has to figure out how to piece together. I feel like I deserve a few of those. Eventually I did though, piece things together I mean. I talked to my roomie in the calm, direct, grammatically correct way I know how. I did feel slightly proud, though, when she told me how scared the girls were to see me mad.

I had a temper once, I remember. And I said nasty things that hurt people and would come down from an anger induced high and feel absolutely rotten. Ever since I haven’t seemed to be able to escape my cool, level-headed facade. My anger comes without warning, even to me. I don’t ever sense it presence. It just slams through me full force and its like I’m no longer in control. What I know I’m capable of scares me, and though those fleeting moments of release do feel like a sort of internal detox, I’m glad I’m the way I am.

It is a quality monks spend their entire lives meditating and starving on mountain tops for, I believe.

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