I have a very nasty temper.
People don't believe me when I say this. Ever since I was a kid, I've had what one might call a short fuse. A very illogical short fuse that is prone to blowing unexpectedly.
Generally, I'm okay. I'm a lot better than I used to be, but occasionally stress will trigger a sudden screaming fit (a cathartic screaming fit) and I undergo a frightening transformation, becoming a hysterical Queen of the Harpies.
I'm not sure why this happens, but it does seem to occur around the same time every month, which means that I'm either part lycanthrope or that I'm at the mercy of hormones. I can always tell for the latter- there'll be one day of complete and utter woe-is-me-oh-the-angst!-the-angst! self-pitying depression and then the next day I'll be as narky as a wounded bull.
Today, I had another sudden violent explosion of inexplicable rage (again, at the appropriate time of the month). See, I need the car on Friday night because I am working until 12 a.m. Yes, 12 a.m. Because, naturally, EVERYONE WANTS TO SHOP FOR ELECTRONICS AT MIDNIGHT.
I didn't think this was such a big deal, considering that I don't know what time I'll be finishing up, and I'd rather drive myself home than inconvenience someone else. That, and I absolutely detest being 'picked up' like a schoolkid by my parents. I'm not four years old.
But no, both parentals require one car each for Friday night. And I would much rather drive myself home than have to be picked up after midnight. This should have been a rational point of discussion, but I was suddenly overcome by a fit of pure anger- mostly built-up frustration that I can't do anything without having to run it through my parents first- and of course, I had a fit.
It's not my parents' fault. I am living at home, and certain responsibilities and limitations govern the household. Obviously, freedom was always going to be severely compromised by financial security. But to my addled, sleep-deprived, hormonal mind (plus I'd just staggered off a ten hour shift at work) it was a national calamity.
Ten minutes later, I figured that I could ask one of my colleagues to drop me home.
That would have been the logical, sensible, non-yelling solution.
But that's not nearly half as interesting. And I'm still absolutely furious for no reason at all.
Which makes me wonder...what's your worst fault?
(Remember you can remain anonymous...so SPILL!)
2 comments:
My temper too. And lack of perspective. Oh the screaming fits. The ones I have inflicted on my family make the ones I had at school with Lucy look like children's slap-fights.
My poor family. It's a wonder they still let me live at home!
I also have the worse temper as well. I want to KILL EVERYONE IN SIGHT. During my raggedy times, I'm very prone to outbursts of tears at the smallest things. Like receiving a wet willy while trying to sleep on a train for example.
Possibly my worse trait is how I inflict most of these bad moods onto unsuspecting people. Especially the guy ones, they are the MOST BEWILDERED, and think I'm a witch from Two-Face Kingdom. HAHAHA...
So I can totally sympathise with you!
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