Angry at being angry

Pinoy Dinuguan by mhel1, on Flickr
(Diniguan or pork blood stew, fondly called chocolate meat,
is a Filipino dish cooked with chili, vinegar and pork blood.)

I had an unpleasant evening.  My blood boiled that I almost cooked "dinuguan" for today's lunch.  Oh, hot chili peppers!

For me, one of the perks of living away from family is being able to avoid disagreements.  I am glad to get away from quarrels as petty as losing socks and finding them in your sibling's drawer.  Plus, being away becomes even better when you are ocean's away.  That means less talk and less talk means getting your peace.  But it does make any overseas call specially important.  If there are favors to ask by either side, you always try to give in any way.  It is almost always a yes.  If not, you willingly say next time. 

But that was not the case when I placed a call at 10:55 last night.  The sound of pessimism hit like a sharp blow to my ears.  It must have been worse if my iPad had earphones.  It would have sounded louder... 

It's not that I only take yes and yeses for answers.  I do have plenty of nos and noses that I put them in a glass jar in my closet.  (What do you mean the late pop king?  Beat it, ok?!) 

Anyway, no was not an option because the favor was in our Dad's behalf.  My request was to simply arrange something for him so he could fly back to US and be with Mom.  I can't be more detailed than that or it may be a long boring story for you. 

I am glad to get away from quarrels as petty as losing socks and finding them in your sibling's drawer. ~lancelonie

Angry birds, for Macro Mondays group by +_Jan_+, on Flickr

Well, it's my fault anyway.  I knew that it was wrong timing for me to deal.  I was already a ticking bomb - an angry bird inside - around 9pm.  I was so moody that I wasn't able to take even a slightest snarl.  (Ah, women!)  So then it only took two words – one coming from me and one from the other – to activate the bomb . . . and this land mine went off.  It struck both ends and there we were – my sibling on duty and me on my bed – back to our childhood ways.  It's funny 'cause now it seems petty like those lost-and-found socks . . . and, oh, how it sucks! 

This morning, I came to work with a heavy heart.  One of my team told me to check my voicemail if I wanted to laugh.  Little did she knew that I needed it.  I was still angry inside and I wanted to share the whole world at that very moment.  My brain got divided between numbers and words.  While I was downloading a monster file in Excel, I was also mentally composing my thoughts. 

Then I realized...
I'm not really angry at someone.  I'm angry at being angry and the fact that I can't fight this ill-feeling. 

I'm not really angry at someone.  I'm angry at being angry and the fact that I can't fight this ill-feeling. ~lancelonie