The Frustrated Bitchfest : Part One of a Million

Last night I missed an opportunity.

After nearly seeing someone almost die one night, the next I had a hell of a time. Work was smooth, easy, and almost kind of fun. Oh, what a difference 6 hours of sleep makes.

My day started at midnight, me trying to resist the urge to go jump on my new mattress and fall asleep and soldier on through a three page English paper. This lasted until about 1 AM, when my fingers and brain started whispering "fuck you in the eye" to me. I took that as a hint that I was somehow tripping balls and that the paper wasn't going anywhere. So with that I gave in and slept.

I woke up at 7, thinking I could go to my English class (that I still had to go to despite it being TAKS day) early so I could hang around with some friends until I had to go back in at 1:15. It ended up not happening that way. I had breakfast and lunch with my friends, which was cool, but I spent the rest of it at home. Better than being at school, but still kind of lame for what I was expecting out of it.

After I got to school, it went pretty normally.

In fact, everything up to 6:30 went swimmingly. After that, shit went down hill fast.

I'm not going to go into that though. That's a can of worms I'm forcing shut. I'm just going to say something stupid if I go on with that.

But the anger I was feeling swirling around inside on my drive back from the two and a half hour appointment in hell was slowly growing into rage. If it weren't for Ricky Gervais on NPR, I might have torn my steering wheel out of my car. It was kind of unsettling.

I felt this a few days ago, when I wrote a longwinded post on here about how life has decided that it will reward my hard work with a steaming pile of shit right on the top of my head. In it I lashed out at a few people, going so far as to name a few of them. I deleted it after a night's rest, mostly because I was afraid I'd lose my job over it.

It's really unsettling. I enjoy the fact that I'm fairly spontaneous, but that's started to translate into flying off the handle more than I should. For example, driving some little trash-talking shit's head into the ice during my game tonight was pretty satisfying, but it was the perfect display of what happens to me when my anger gets the best of me. The fucker deserved it, mind you, but I've long gone by the principle that violence is almost never the answer for a while. It's not like there's a diplomatic solution to on-ice arguments, but after I leveled that prick, the puck went into the corner of the other team's zone. If I hadn't been on top of the guy, I might have actually done something constructive with it.

I'm really scared that this situation will repeat itself when it really matters, like if I worked with a really annoying son of a bitch and when I was supposed to be doing something in order to earn a living, I decided to rearrange his jaw a few inches to the right.

Even more so, I'm afraid that this will carry into my personal life. I'm well aware that some people don't like my personality, which can be pretty abrasive at times. I mean, when I'm not trying to be a smartass I always end up acting like a dickish smartass. I can't imagine how much worse off I'd be if I started hitting things that annoyed me as well.

This is unfocused as hell. I'm not sure how focused I could be in my current state, but god damn.

It seems I can't have a good day anymore. They either start off great and end fucking horribly, or start with a lurch and end fantastically. There's never any middle ground.

I'm just so frustrated right now. This whole thing was a bitchfest.

I just can't wait until I actually get to start my life.