Here’s an actual me update.
Going to visit my cousin in Cullowee, North Carolina tomorrow to ride horses. Yes, we’re getting up to go ride horses and get stinky. And visit, of course. It’ll be fun. It means I’ll have gotten to hang with my Mom two weekends in a row, which is a rare occasion these days. And my brother, who I haven’t seen in, a month? It seems that way. Which is silly, because he lives downtown.
I’m making contact with someone I admire very much, and that’s put me in a good mood lately. I’m not really sure what exactly will come out of it, but I know it will put me farther ahead than I was before, which is certainly a good thing. I don’t want to talk about it too much because I don’t want to jinx my good luck, but I’m pretty pumped about this thing.
My one-year anniversary with my company is coming up. I have to say, I’m pretty proud of myself. I’ve always been good about sticking with jobs for the long-haul, and my shortest was in high school, averaging about six months. This company has made it really easy to want to stay, so I’m lucky.
Everything else is going well, too. I (kind of) hate being that person that when you ask them how they are they get to say, great! and actually mean it. Which is good if you’re that person, but if you’re not in a good mood, sometimes, it’s easy to hate that person.
. . . . . . . .
I did however, have bad dreams last night. Little vignettes of people coming up to me telling me I was a horrible person, and I should be locked up..
Why? Because of this:
Yesterday on my way over to work numero dos I was coming through the neighborhood (down a pretty sizable hill, mind you) and got the “slow down” motion forced at me by a guy with his wife and stroller. I’m no idiot dude, contrary to the fact that I have ovaries, I can be a good driver. I saw you, and your baby (or stroller full of beer bottles, who knows which) and I veered, ok? I saw you, I would never purposefully try to hit you or anyone else (except maybe now if I see you again.. ha, kidding!). I’m getting out of my car and he comes over to me (as if the “slow down” before wasn’t enough) to tell me that I was going entirely too fast, and, there are kids in this neighborhood and he’s seen me come through here before and that I need to slow it down.
I apologized sheepishly and walked to the door, getting more infuriated by the second. I went inside and raged while eating yummy Thai food that I had just picked up for dinner. I thought, “How dare he try and tell me what to do??,” all very punk-rock like. “Fuck that guy!” I was still irritated when I left work and was on my way home, and my poor boyfriend had to listen to me rant and rave about something that was arguably my fault. But just a little.
. . . . .
Ok, before I’m deemed to be barren and childless forever, I will absolutely admit, I was going a little fast for a neighborhood. I was. But I got that the first time. It was a hill, I put it in neutral, and coasted down the hill. But the fact that he came over to play police officer really irked me. And of course, at the time of the incident, I did apologize and I meant it.
But lately I have a real issue with certain people trying to tell me what to do.
It wasn’t even that bad when I was a teenager. So why am I acting out now at 23? I’ve said before that I know I have a case of short-man syndrome. Or angry white middle-class girl syndrome, whichever you choose to call it. But why, is the question. I don’t know.
I need someone to tell me why I get mad at the things I do. I can’t pay you, but I would be eternally grateful.
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