A knot in my throat, I hold back the scream of frustration. Soon I will not be able to sit motionless. I will have to move my body. I will have to find a way to vent without getting the police involved.
I begin to fidgit. At first my fingers start to tap on the desk. They follow no musical path, more like releasing energy as it bursts out my fingertips. My feet ache to kick something. Dammit, I'm wearing flats. They're no good in punching holes in stuff like I need to do today.
My frustration mounts.
Ease off the coffee. No more coffee for me. Put the chocolate away.
My voice gets louder than it should. Not quite yelling, but verging on shrill.
Be a lady. Be a lady. Inside voice. Inside voice.
I feel the need to be mean. Mean as a junkyard dog. Nasty as a kicked hornets nest. Yes, those around me are going to suffer and I will smile as I watch them squirm. This perverse need will only be sated after I've torn through a peaceful afternoon like a tornado leaving a path of destruction in my wake.
I have been provoked. Not that I didn't warn them, but they didn't see the clear signs I was giving.
"No."
"Not good for me."
"Not working out."
"Not what I had planned."
God help the poor soul to happens to start with me today. They may find my size 7 Mary Jane pump sticking out of their forehead and hearing me say, "Do that again and I've got another shoe to match the one sticking out of your head."
9 comments:
With that being said, Anonymous person, I repeat this so you don't miss it.
How do you know I made them happy? How do you know they've been waiting for me?
Maybe I pissed them off. It wouldn't be the first time, nor will it be the last.
Maybe they cringed when they saw my name, "Crap it's her again. Won't she ever shut up?"
Or maybe, and my personal favorite, it had nothing to do with me and they are searching for another person and another person is searching for them.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
I'm sorry. I meant no harm.
I just enjoyed reading what you and the others had to say. You seemed to have a lot of fun.
And to think I used to enjoy working with you! Isn't that a scarey thought. Didn't your mother ever tell you there would be days when no one followed the game plan? Or there was no game plan? Or the game plan got caught in the shredder? Or the game plan got caught in the laminator? Or better yet, someone's necktie got caught in the laminator? Cheer up. The last one is a definite possibility, and in one case was a definite happening! Bizzie Lizzie
By definition, a lady is completely uninteresting. Thankfully, you are no lady. [grins]
Although it had nothing to do with you, seeing you made the effort worth the risk. That is what I heard anyway. And you didn't hear that from me.
Ok, here I am, and somewhat cooler minded today.
Anonymous #1: don't sweat it.
Bizzy Lizzy: How long have you known me? How well do I handle imposition, especially if I have to take it with a smile? Actually, it was more than an imposition, it was rudeness beyond my comprehension because I would NEVER do that in a million years and this situation was pushed on me... Don't get me started. I'm wearing the perfect pair of shoes to damage stuff today.
Anonymous [smiles] - I'll never be a lady, it's just not in me to behave (obey, conform, shut-up, submit, not curse...)
They said they weren't angry with you and they were happy to see you, so why aren't you there? Why would you think it doesn't have anything to do with you?
Please don't think of me as being pushy. three is an odd number seems to be about you.
This might be a really crazybrains thing to ask, but...bad day? :)
I totally was going to say something to you yesterday that had nothing to do with creamy or crunchy peanut butter, but now I've forgotten what it was I was going to say. >_<
It will come to me eventually, and I'll be back.
I hope you're doing okay, and it'd be really nice to see your azz once in a while. Buwhahaha.
Later, Jen!
Anonymous, why do you care? It has NOTHING to do with me. "Three is an odd number" was for me, not about me.
In the most lady-like way I can say it, piss off before I beat you with my shoe.
Um, hello? Three is a MAGIC number, thank you very much!
:P
Seriously though, I have no idea what any of this is pertaining to. It sounds like some anonymous has been a dumbass. Nothing new I suppose. For what it's worth, I'm sorry they put you into mean streak mode, and I'm especially sorry you weren't wearing heels!
Here's to a (hopefully) relaxing weekend, and a fresh start next week.
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