WARNING! The following post contains profanity that may offend some readers!
Tuesday, 2 November 2010.
Another day of crappy weather outside.
The document I was formatting for work was driving me nuts.
My internet kept on dropping out.
Most times when I got up out of my chair, I kept bumping into one thing after another and scolding myself for being such a clumsy oaf and having an over-cluttered apartment.
By early afternoon, I was in a constant state of fury.
The weather outside still sucked.
That goddamn document I was formatting for work was still driving me nuts.
My fucking internet still kept on dropping out.
By mid-afternoon, I was exhausted from feeling angry.
Maybe having a shower and getting outdoors would help.
I showered, and felt better.
About an hour later, which was now late afternoon, I went outside.
The day was still looking dreary, but at least it wasn’t raining.
While crossing the street at Oxford and Riley, a young woman coming the other way seemed to blatantly cross into my path with what appeared to be a smug smile upon her face. Was she being ignorant? Or was she shit-testing me? Or was I just being paranoid? Whatever the fuck was going on, I maintained course and made her move out of the way. Bitch.
About ten minutes later down at JB Hi-Fi World Square I was only mildly disappointed that neither Mad Men Season 4 or Breaking Bad Season 3 were available yet on DVD – but I was pleased to find that Season 1 of Hung, which I had long been interested in seeing, had been reduced to $30, so I grabbed a copy of that. Shortly after, though, at the counter when I went to sign for my purchase, my pen didn’t work again so I had to use theirs, and the first thing I did when I left the store was to hurl my fucking useless pen into the nearest bin because that was the last time it would fail me.
Next, as expected, shopping for a few grocery items at nearby Coles World Square was the usual nightmare of a poorly laid-out supermarket crowded with many other shoppers who mostly seemed to stupidly move about with their heads up their arses – but because that environment met expectations, I could grit my teeth and bear it.
The Coles cashier who served me was cute and pleasant, but a moment later when I checked to see why my bag of groceries felt more awkward than normal, I found that she’d made an utter mess of packing it – like pretty much every supermarket cashier that had served me for the past many years. For crying out loud! My first ever job had been as a Coles trolley-boy and one of the most valuable skills I ever got from that experience was knowing how to properly pack a bag of groceries! Don’t they fucking teach that anymore?!? I repacked my bag properly.
Outside World Square, the day was still dreary, but at least it wasn’t raining.
I was waiting at the corner of George and Liverpool for the lights to change so I could cross over – but just as the lights changed, a bus pulled up right across the crossing, which meant that we had to walk around in front of it and almost have to step out into the traffic now roaring past close by on Liverpool.
(The night before over at Bondi Junction, I was at a crossing there with right-of-way when suddenly a bus suddenly braked to a halt less than a metre away, and the driver gave us pedestrians a smug grin).
Back in the present at George and Liverpool, I walked in front of that goddamn bus, looked at the driver and screamed at him the two words I had been mostly using that day: “FUCK YOU!”
I went to Event Cinemas to purchase tickets for a friend and myself to see Made In Dagenham that evening. To my surprise, a creepy man whom I’d often seen around the city centre and whom I thought may be homeless was ahead of me in the queue…but when he got to the head of the queue, he let the couple before me and I go ahead of him while he remained standing there with a creepy-looking grin. What the fuck was he doing?!?
I bought my tickets and left the cinema, but when I checked the clock on my mobile ‘phone I was annoyed to see that there would most likely be no time to do any NaNoWriMo writing before my friend was due to arrive. Idiot! Why didn’t I leave home earlier?!?
But as I headed outside to cross George Street and go to Star Bar, where my friend and I often meet to have dinner, I told myself that enough was enough.
Yes, it had been an especially shitty day, a very frustrating Angry Day, where one thing after another kept going wrong and driving me increasingly nuts. I had been furious, then exhausted from that fury, then furious again, and starting to feel exhausted again (huzzah)
But now I was going to meet my friend, and if there is one very valuable lesson I had learned even before I began overhauling my life from mid-2007 is never burden someone else with your unasked whining (which I had done late one night in 2002 to another friend’s then-partner, and ever since that painful and selfish incident I had sworn to never do it again – and in early 2008 when I read The Satanic Bible for the first time, I found myself very much agreeing with the Second Satanic Rule of the Earth).
If my friend did ask how my day had been, I would tell him the truth – but in as few words as possible, leave it at that, and instead focus on the Now of having dinner, talking about good things and looking forward to Made In Dagenham.
So, as I entered Star Bar, I forced my anger to dissipate.
And as I approached the bar to place my order, I saw who was taking orders there and I felt even more better – because it was an attractive young woman who had been working at Star Bar for years and had always treated me with great friendliness. As I placed my order, we exchanged some pleasant conversation and made each other laugh.
So, a moment later when I joined my friend at our table, my mood had improved considerably.
And when my friend asked how my day had been, I replied with a single “Fucked!” – but then I assured him that the day was now over and behind me, and I was now here to enjoy my evening.
And I did. We had a good dinner, talked and laughed about stuff that interested us, and later enjoyed the inspiring and touching Made In Dagenham.
There will be more Angry Days, of course – but like my Black Dog Days, I’m learning how to live with them.
Until next time, stay well and take care 🙂