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I’m not sure what is going with me these days, but I am discovering that I have turned into a passive-aggressive bitch from hell.
Walking on my side of the sidewalk? Better change course, buster, or I will run you down. Standing 10 feet away from the counter and still believe you’re next in line? Not when I walk around you and stand in front of the cashier, sweetheart. Standing with your friend talking in front of the only door exiting the building? I think nothing of just barging in between the two of you so I can make my escape. Taking forever to perform your OCD-like experiment with your coffee at the condiment counter? Then I’m the person blatantly invading your personal space, standing three inches behind you, silently urging you to hurry the fuck up.
Maybe it’s stress, maybe school is catching up to me. I’ve been under the gun for three weeks straight spending 12 hours a day in the lab. Or maybe it’s just that people have no zero sense of tactical awareness to know that they are moving against traffic, are holding up the line, are bogarting the creamer, or just generally in the way of people trying to get on with their damn lives.
I’ve got a week off and in the first two days, I watched 8 movies, read a book, went to the gym 4 times, cleaned the apartment, caught up on filing, and dismantled the vacuum cleaner for a thorough cleaning. You’d think I’d be overjoyed to get out, amongst the crowds, soaking in the weirdness of human society that usually tickles me pink.
Instead, I am moody on the verge of outright hostile and want everyone to eff off.
Off to the gym, again, trying to work off this mysterious anger.
Sailor Man has this really annoying habit of chastising me in the car when I don’t lay on the horn when someone in another car does something stupid like cut us off. His philosophy is that people need to be told when they are doing something wrong. This does not carry over into his personal life though.
As when Sailor Man left his job this week. Finally. After almost two years of working for the Ego-Maniacal-Bastard, and his boss, I-Who-Could-Give-A-Damn, he finally decided it best that he leave his job before I have the opportunity to catch one of those morons walking across the street while I’m behind the wheel.
To his credit, he was nice about it. He acknowledged, somewhat, the real purpose behind his decision to leave, but he also cited other reasons which really were only icing on the proverbial cake. He managed to shake hands, part on good terms, and not burn any bridges.
And I’ve been mad at him for it. Truly. I wanted comeuppance, revenge, flesh on a plate, and he just walked away. We picked up and moved half way across the country from a place we really loved on the premise that his place of business was a sane, rational, good place to work. That it has turned out to be the absolute opposite, makes me bitter. Bitter to the core.
And yet he kept the relationship intact. I know, I know, it was the right thing to do, but I can’t ignore that part of me that says if I had my drothers, I would not only have burned the bridge, I would also have nuked the ever-living-hell out of the other side. This being the dominant and concious part me speaking here.
I’m often amazed at how much nicer a human being Sailor man is in comparison to myself. He can forgive and forget and he can turn the other cheek, me not so much. Sailor Man calls it my Irish Alzheimers, where I forget everything but the grudge…and this is pretty much dead on.
He is too forgiving to a fault, I’m too unforgiving. It’s good we are together because I think if I had ended up with someone who possessed my temperment total chaos would reign. I have an utterly evil tongue and it is only restrained by a very weak chain. So when I see yet another Erie example of nepotism resulting in the most incompetent people retaining a job while good, honest, hard working people get driven out by the sheer frustration of it all, I want hell unleashed.
Talk about being born to a wrong era. I want to go back to the old days of Viking domination and the Old Gods. Where arguments are settled by the All Thing or at least, a hefty blow of a battle axe, whichever is more convenient. I’d have made one hell of a Valkyrie.
So Sailor Man is off to his next adventure on another boat to another sea. I remain behind to finish school until we decide where to go next. The future is uncertain. That is, of course, unless EMB and IWCGAD happen across my path.