Friday, October 1, 2010

This is the story about how I am emotionally volatile and also I didn't get to punch anyone today.

"I don't know what is going on with my mood swings lately, " I told Gretchen last night. "I feel like I'm on the brink of a complete emotional breakdown and yet I have this overwhelming desire to punch someone really hard right in the face."

"That . . . is . . . awesome," she announced, while staying on the other side of the room lest I actually do begin punching things/people. This conversation took place just after I sobbed my way through this week's Project Runway. I don't know why. I don't even like that show.

(Yes I do.)



ANYWAY . . .  Today has been beautiful. I'm in my office all morning, happy as a lark. Just to give you an idea of what my mood has been like, I'll tell you that around eleven I was standing on my office chair belting out Kenny Rogers like there's no tomorrow. That is what is called Being Professional.

(I was trying to get something off the top of my cabinets. It's not like I just climb up on my chair in the middle of my office and sing for no reason.)


(Yes I do.)


ANYWAY . . .  So we're gliding through the day just fine until someone informs me that one of our vendors, the one who has been giving me nothing but grief for six solid months, has dropped the ball yet again on something that I have talked to them about like nine million times. </exaggeration>

BLIND, SEETHING, OUT-OF-NOWHERE RAGE.


"Oh, don't you worry," I told my dear, slowly-backing-away-from-the-crazy-person coworker. "I'll call them right now and get this fixed." And then I laughed an evil, maniacal laugh. Oh, I was so happy. I was going to call the guy and tear. him. apart. He was going to tremble in his chair. He was going to regret the day he ever crossed me. I didn't even care if the problem was fixed. I just wanted to yell at someone. And I wanted to make him cry.

(I am an amazingly pleasant person. Look up "nicest person ever" on Wikipedia and you'll see a big picture of me. Caption: Sings Kenny Rogers and likes to cause permanent emotional damage to others.)

I hopped on the phone with the guy and laid out exactly what was wrong. I paused (for dramatic effect) and took a deep breath, readying myself for the wailing I was about to deliver.

But before I could start, he jumps in with, "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! This is so awful! You must be so frustrated! You have been so patient with us over the past few months and I can't believe this happened! I am so going to take care of this right now!"

And, deflated, I mumbled, "that will be fine," and "thank you," and "that sounds good, sir."

Before we got off the phone he asked if there was anything else he could help me with and so I asked if perhaps next time he wouldn't be so polite and helpful. 

"Um, what?" he asked.

"Well, you were just really nice and it was annoying because I really just wanted to yell at someone but I can't yell at someone who's being so helpful."

"Oh. Well, you can yell at me now if you'd like," he offered.

"No, it's okay," I said. "Just maybe remember it for next time."

"I will make a note of it on your account right now."

"Thanks."




The end.

3 comments:

Karen said...

When I have a surge of irrationality (is that a word?), I usually blame it on hormones. Makes me feel like it's not me that's irrational, it's my hormones that are irrational.

Kristina P. said...

Man, sometimes, I am it itching for a fight. Way to deflate your bubble like that.

Kim said...

Exactly, ladies. Plus I'm wearing my red heels today and I'm always so feisty when I've got them on.