I heard it on the wind, and I saw it in the sky

Lately, I've been trying to not be so negative in the things I say and do. I generally think I do a good job. When I do have things that are negative, I am getting so much better at brushing them off. Today was not such a day.

The day actually started last night when I couldn't sleep, despite having been up for far too long. My mind wouldn't stop thinking about all kinds of stuff. The test that was handed out on Thursday that was due in a week. The paper due on Tuesday. The guests coming over this weekend that I can't be a good host to because I'm so broke and busy. No bigs, however, worrying can be a pretty normal occurrence for me. When the morning comes, I'm dreaming of SNL, particularly the Beastie Boys doing a rollicking rendition of "Sabotage". The weird thing is that they're looking right at me. It's like they were trying to tell me something. I woke up with this feeling that the day did not have the best of intentions towards me.

I got in my car and noticed that the gas gauge was low. And by low, I mean below the "E" low. At this point I start to get very nervous. I can't have my car run out of gas on me. However, I can't put gas in it because my bank account is the proud owner of $17, and that has to last me until at least my new loan shows up with 8% interest that I needed to get because my job cut my hours to the point that I could barely pay my bills, let alone eat. That should be showing up in a day or two, hopefully, but if not I have to make it to a week from today. In the meantime, I have been the subject of charitable donations. My friend up here takes me out to eat every time he see me, and while I appreciate it, I am starting to resent it. I'm not a charity case. I am normally quite capable of taking care of my own needs, thank you very much. And yet, I keep taking the food because part of me knows he's right, I do need it because I can't afford to buy any myself. And that is a seriously depressing realization. So in my mind, I've got my budget set. I get to work by a miracle and realize that somehow I'm going to have to put some gas into my car. I'm out of options at this point. I figure $10 should be enough, so I make plans to do that when I get off work. At work, things start off fairly well. I make it to my first break with nary a problem. All is well. During the break, I talk to my boss about my upcoming dismissal, and we come to an agreement that works for both of us. In short, I agree to stay on call and he agrees to let me keep my bus pass. Awesome.

A little after my break ends is when the fan turns on. Nothing has hit it yet, but I'm starting to smell something waiting in the wings for those blades to start spinning. An uneasy feeling comes over me. The door opens, and in walks Coworker X. Coworker X is one of those people that is nice and does nothing wrong, and yet somehow manages to find all of the spots in my nervous system that just make me cringe and twitch. She starts running around the office, talking about everything she sees. Everything. EVERYTHING. I'm not talking, "oh look, a new plant". I'm talking "hey look, I see this thing that I see everyday. Did you know that this thing makes me think of this other thing. Oh look, a computer! Oh look, a phone! Want to hear me sing a song now? LALALALALALALA" OHMYGOODNESSWILLYOUPLEASESHUTYOURWHOREMOUTHANDLEAVEMETHEGOODHELLALONE?! I don't give a good crap what idiot song you heard on Glee last night. I could not possibly care less if you think it's a horrible representation of marriage. I don't care about your opinion for songs to play at my wedding. Nothing that comes out of your mouth has any interest to me in any way, shape, or form. Your voice is made of razor blades dipped in pure evil. STOP. TALKING. As she begins to motor around, making sure we all know every STUPID thought that goes through her mind, my blood begins to boil.

She starts singing a Bon Jovi song and the first little bit of fury breaks through. "Don't. Sing. That song. Just shut it."

"Oh, but it's a good so..."

"I don't care what you think. Stop singing it. Now."

I feel a twinge of guilt for letting myself crack like that and think that I should feel bad for that. I realize I don't and force myself to ignore her.

The song changes to another one, a song that I normally like but am not particularly in the mood for. I cut my losses and focus on the song in my head at the moment. Her piercing voice cuts through my thoughts, but I force it aside and enjoy my chosen song.

The work day is winding down and I am winding up.

She opens her mouth again, and this time she spews forth her opinion on the state of California. You know, the one that I grew up in and will love to the day I die. "I hate California so much. It's such a trashy place, and it just wants to be Florida."

Splat.

"Excuse me, you're from Florida and are making broad generalizations about MY state being trashy? Really?! You do know that's where I grew up, right?"

"Where are you from?"

"Los Angeles."

"Oh, that's even worse! California orange juice sucks and they just wish they had Disneyworld."

"When was the last time you were even there?!"

"Oh, I've never been, I hope I never go."

Snap.

"Coworker, you need to shut your mouth right now. I don't mean that as in 'please be quiet'. I mean if you don't stop talking, I'm going to lose. It. Shut. Your. Mouth. Now. I don't want to hear anything more because your are infuriating me in ways you don't even want to know."

"I'm just saying.."

"Stop saying! Just stop! No more talking. No more noise. Shut your mouth." At this point, I have to turn my back from her because she has pushed my anger to the level it shouldn't be. My body is shaking from the rage at her so blindly insulting a place that I love so much, and for no real reason at all. I'm tired, I'm stressed, and all I want is to eat something that isn't a freaking protein bar and not see anyone but my fiance, who sadly is finishing up her degree in a different state. Whatever. I could deal with the end of work, make it home, and relax. I would be able to talk to my fiance tonight, no big deal. Work ends and I leave as quickly as I can. I get to my car and proceed to the nearest gas station, a feat that can be surprisingly difficult when your power steering is dead and you need to make tight turns from a dead stop. I pull into the gas station and sacrifice my $10 on the altar to the gods of the Middle East. It is at this point that I remember that I had some food that I had left at someone's house completely on accident last Sunday, food that consisted of chicken and cheese. Real food that wasn't a protein bar. With the bread I had in my cupboard, that might be just the thing. I call the person who lives with my food and find out that someone should be at the house in 15 minutes. Perfect, I think, I can run in, get my food, and completely miss the traffic that would be starting to really get bad in the next hour.

I arrive at the house and realize that no one is home. At this point, I'm so hungry I'm shaking. I make an executive decision and walk to a local grocery store and get the cheapest thing I can find: a slightly stale box of donuts for a buck. I walk out, rip the package open and, with trembling fingers, shove food down my throat. I begin the two block walk back to the house just as the rain starts coming down. Thick, heavy rain. The kind that beats you as if you are a red headed step child. The lights at the house have remained off. I knock on the door again and get into my car. I decide that, since I'm already there, I might as well kill some time. I give it another 20 minutes, during which time I kill half the donuts. I call my friend and tell him that I'm going to leave. As I'm saying this, someone gets home, so I quickly end the call and run inside to get my food. I pull it out of the fridge and freezer and notice that someone was kind enough to eat half of my basically new log of cheese. Thanks, guys. You're the best. At this point, I don't care anymore. I race back through the rain to get into my dying car. I force it to turn around and set off for my home.

In case you were wondering, that little 50 minute detour set me right in the middle of rush hour traffic, so that's cool.

I get home, immediately get some food started, and as soon as it's cooked, head up to my room, which needs to be cleaned in preparation for my guests tomorrow night. I flip the switch in my room. Nothing happens. I flip it a few more times. I realize that my light is dead. Normally, that's not a big deal. You hop in the car, drive to the store, and boom, you have a new light bulb. The problem with this is that I now have $6 to my name and need the gas to get to work tomorrow morning and church the next day. Thumbs up, everybody, for rock and roll.

I search my house for anything that I can use as a light bulb and manage to steal one from a light fixture that no one ever turns on. I get it in, and lo and behold, it doesn't work. After a few minutes of finagling, I get the stupid light to turn on. I go downstairs, and while I'm downstairs, I miss both a phone call and a text message. Grand. I return the call (no answer) and call my fiance. I listen to her day, listen as she gets ready to head to the movies, and think "at least I'll have time to talk to her since the movie doesn't start for a little over an hour". As it turns out, this isn't the case, and the phone call is over. It is at this point, my brain's anti-anger system shuts down. My fist flies out, and now I have left my mark on this house. A roommate pops his head out, and I tell him not to worry about it. I jump in the shower, and there I remain for as long as I can.

This brings me to now. My room is still a mess, I still haven't done a damn bit of work, and I have to be in bed shortly so as to be ready for tomorrow's day at work. I hope my brain will shut down long enough for me to pass out because, even now as I type this, my face is flushed and my heart is pounding. Today managed to hit all of the buttons in just the right order. Well played.

I am pissed off, world, about things that I should not be pissed off about. Am I proud of that? Absolutely not. But you know what? I don't even care.