It is approximately 7:26 a.m., and already I can tell it's one of those days. I have anger welling up inside me that I don't even think has a source. It's just there. All angry-like. So far today, everyone I've looked at I want to hit, which probably doesn't mean good things for my coworkers, seeing as though they are the only people I've seen today.
I hate this feeling, this angry feeling. I want to lash out, and I haven't decided at who yet. I'd lash out at myself, but yelling all alone doesn't have the same punch as it does when others are involved.
Trust me. I know.
This is something a bath won't fix. Neither will crying. I foresee the only remedy being a love-fest with the people who care, which, luckily, I get tonight. Thank big, baby Jesus for that.
Does somebody need a hug? Not only one of my favorite lines from Elf, but also the answer is yes. Yes, somebody does. Big ones. Lots of smoosh.
I hate being angry. I hate being mad at people without reason. I can pinpoint about eight people I want to punch right now, but I couldn't give you a clear answer as to why. Justifiable reasons, anyway.
I have plenty of selfish, irrational reasons.
These are the feelings welling up inside, other than pure, unadulterated anger: pressure, impatience, instability, jealousy, helplessness, irrationality, fear, desperation, and my stomach's growling, which also means I'm hungry.
And I'm a total bitch when I'm hungry.
So let me apologize in advance for any ill-will I may wish upon you today. I don't mean it. Probably.
And, by the way, I have a bruise the size of a porterhouse on my left leg. Who the hell beat the shit out of me in a game of tackle football? Because I'm positive that's where it came from.