I went ahead and kept it clean in the title of this post
because I know a lot of my Triberr peeps want to keep their Twitter feeds Safe
For Work, which is something I keep thinking I ought to do, but then never
actually do. Don’t let it be said I wasn’t thinking of your needs.
 |
| I am so considerate. |
Ever since I quit
smoking, I’ve been having anger
management problems. A few months into my new, smoke-free life, it became
obvious that my irritability and strong feelings of rage were not withdrawal
symptoms, as I had previously
thought, but part of the reason – nay,
the whole reason – I was smoking in the first place. I used tobacco as an
unhealthy means of coping with my anger, instead of implementing a healthy
means of coping with my anger, such as, for example, not hanging around with
a**holes.
I’ve stopped hanging out with a**holes as much as possible,
which is harder than I would have thought. I’d like to not hang out with
a**holes at all, period – I mean gee, anyone would – but it turns out that’s
impossible. Society is just chock-full of a**holes. That should have been
obvious from the outset, but, my friends, I was young and naïve, and bore a young,
naïve person’s innocent faith in the inherent goodness of humanity.
Nevermore.
Since I blew it and spent too much time hanging around with
a**holes and smoking to deal with their connerie
as we say in French, I now have years and years worth of pent-up rage that I
didn’t deal with at the time. It turns out that when you suppress your
feelings, they don’t go away; they just get worse.
Oops.
You’d think that after fourteen-plus
months of not smoking, I’d have developed some new coping skills. I have
developed some new coping skills,
sure, but I’m still the cross, fiery, ill-tempered, irate, offended,
exasperated person I always was, and now I don’t even have a reason to go outside
and get away from you for ten minutes every time you piss me off. There’s just
no amount of intense cardio or guided meditation that can make up for that.
Since I’m in one
of my Don’t Give a Sh&t Years (that’s years divisible by six or nine,
in case you’re wondering), it really just takes all I’ve got to keep from
slapping the stupid right out of your face.
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| Most people keep their stupid here, in the nasal sinus cavities. |
I can’t afford therapy, but I’ve got a whole bunch of books
saved on my Amazon Wishlist. It’ll be knotty around here until I’ve finished
reading them all, and probably also after that, because self-help books are
full of it.
 |
| So, watch yourselves. |
