Think about something that drives you crazy. Now, think about something that makes you happy. Does it change your perspective on the former?
How long have I got? More importantly, how long have you got. I could go on and on about what drives me crazy… it’s actually really hard to focus on just one of these things. Hmmmm…..
Okay, I think my biggest gripe in life is being surrounded by fucktards. Now before you jump on your bandwagon about how politically incorrect that term is, and how insensitive it is… perhaps you should take a step back and pipe the fuck down. Remember, I’m not forcing you to read this, and if you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to go elsewhere. So I’m going to continue my rant, and you’re just going to accept it.
I’ve dedicated a good number of hours documenting my interactions with these people, and their undeniable stupidity. Seriously, sometimes I wonder how they manage to even make it through the day. It makes my brain hurt. It’s also because of these people that I now have a zero tolerance for stupidity, and will quite happily call somebody out on it – sometimes without even realising that I’m even doing it until it’s too late. It’s really turned into a problem. I actually have a whole series of notes of documented conversations with these people, but I think I need to relocate them from FB to an actual blog instead… share my pain with the world.
Seriously though, how is it even remotely possible for somebody to walk into a reception area on street level and be so convinced that it could even possibly be the second floor? BITCH, HOW MANY FLIGHTS OF STAIRS DID YOU WALK UP?? DID YOU JUST CATCH A LIFT FROM THE FOOTPATH?? YOU STUPID FUCKING DUMBASS!!
Yes, I am more than aware that I let it get to me far too much, and I know I need to let it go, but fuck, it’s just so infuriating. I just sends me into a white-hot, table-flipping rage. All I wanna do is leap across my desk and slap some sense into them. However, I’ve also discovered that some people are just fucking dumb and cannot be helped.
This is how I feel after most telephone conversations at work…
On the flip-side, something that makes me happy. Hmmm… There are so manny different ways I could answer this, but I fear they would all get me into trouble somehow…
One thing that truly does make me happy is dancing. Sometimes it might be the absolute last thing I would want to do, or maybe I really just cannot be bothered, or I’m feeling too angry at the shit day I’ve had… but after a class, I feel so much better. Exhausted, yes, but better. For that hour, nothing else matters. Nothing else exists. It’s just me and the music and rest of the people in that studio, and the outside world ceases to exist. I keep forgetting that I’m not necessarily the only people who may be having a shit day either, and that I’m not the only one who needs this hour of dance as a means to escape; an opportunity to just claim an hour of ‘me’ time. When I make myself remember that, it brings me back to reality, and makes me feel rather humbled that I’m helping somebody else escape whatever bullshit their dealing with, the same way I’m escaping my bullshit.
I think it does change my perspective on the former. It proves that I get far too emotionally involved in people’s stupidity; I let it affect me far more than it really should, and at the end of the day, I shouldn’t be at a point where I need escape time. I know that I’m like this, and I know that I need to change this… it’s just a matter of determine how to actually achieve this.
But until such time, I’ll continue to flip tables in my mind.