I'm a pretty laid back person. I don't usually sweat the small stuff.
I have a touch of OCD that sometimes makes my change other peoples loo roll so that it goes over not under, and 'poke' people back on facebook, because the notification on my home page annoys me so much, even though I don't get the point of 'poking'.
But sometimes I just want to scream F#%k. But I can't because I'm a mom, and a daughter, and an employee. And screaming F#%K will just freak people out.
Like for instance, my mom has the most annoying way of not being able to finish anything. Why would a person leave two tablespoons of coke in the two litre bottle, and put it back in the fridge. Just drink it out of the damn bottle and throw it away. Or use my cheese and leave a piece the size of a 10 cent coin. Just eat it for frocks sake, what am I supposed to do with a piece of cheese that size? Just finish a thing, man! Stop trying to make me scream F#%k. But I can't because she's a good mom. She cooks me dinner every night, and takes care of my kid when she's on school holidays, and does so much more for me.
And Ciara, bless her, she is the worlds sweetest nine year old. I love that kid more than life itself. But when she comes home from school, having 'lost' her R500-00 bomber jacket, I just want to scream F#%k. But I can't. Because she's a good kid, and it's not like she meant to lose the thing, or like she loses things every day. But what THAT, why not the R25-00 socks, or the R30-00 tie? Why the most expensive item of school clothing she has?
And the boss. Crikey, I do love him in that non-romantic we've-worked-together-for-12-years-and-know-each-other-better-than-our-mothers kind way. But I'm busy, I don't need or want to be on the phone listening to you unnecessarily repeating things for 11 minutes. Just leave me alone, and let me be a recluse here in my office. I like it this way.
But I suppose life wouldn't quite be life if we didn't sometimes want to scream F#%k. This moment will pass, and I'll come out the other side of it, having further repressed my emotional outbursts.
There's nothing like a little repression at the end of the day. I'm not drowning, just swimming vigorously.
2 comments:
Time for a career change, maybe? If you become a drill sergeant, you get to shout to your heart's content and carry an assault rifle.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming... crap. Now thats going to be stuck on my head all night, along with "Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!"
Anyhoodle.
This here blog is exactly the place that you can scream "F#%k", albeit using language akin to that in an Asterix comic.
But I do get it. Many times I wished I had my own sound proof room where I could go and scream F#%k to my heart's content.
Post a Comment