Yesterday I woke up in a bad mood. Let’s rephrase that; I woke up choosing to let the fact that I was upset about something completely unrelated affect the rest of the day. It started with the dramatic comforter throw and exit out from my warm bed. Then the realization hit that I was cold and I had to change into gym shorts to work out. And then I realized that it’s 7:15 and I had to work out. Then the fact that I had to put gas in my car again. And the list drones on and on, and could really be made of anything I saw as annoying on that particular morning. And then I started saying sentences like these:
Of course you would make this ONE mocha incorrectly. I can’t even enjoy the one thing I was looking forward to today.
Sure, perfect! I love how jammed 85S is. And the ‘Bert Show’ is on a commercial break! Figures.
Frick. I’m late. Everyone’s going to say, ‘Well done Jessica, you are late… AGAIN.’
Car, if you even so much as THINK about coming over to my lane, I will punch you. Don’t tempt me.
‘Yeah, mom, what? Oh, you’re leaving? Ok…bye. Oh, you wanted a hug? (hurump) Fine. I’m just kind of in a hurry, but whatever.’
Oh this is just amazing. Perfect really. I wanted to take the wrong exit so I could waste more gas and go even more out of my way. This is my favorite.
Man, writing these out really make me sound like a diva. And a child! The worst part is, while I’m saying all of these things, there generally is some deep, root issue that I am pissed about, but in my childish ways, I’m not willing to admit. So I pout. And like a child, I secretly wish someone would sit me down and make me say why I’m upset. It could very well be a simple case of the grumpies, but more times than not there is something that I am upset about and desperately need someone patient to pull it out of me. I am very good at getting other people to talk about what they are going through, and am a strong advocate for putting out your dirty laundry to dry, and be done with. But for myself, I prefer to hold onto everything, for the sake of my image. That’s brutal honesty. I’m too proud to admit that I need help and someone to process things with. So I pout.
This blog is for two people. It’s for the “outsiders;” the people noticing a change in mood of their friends and that those curt comments are not normal. Help the grumpy Jessicas. Pull and pry and poke until the root is revealed. It will be painful for the moment, but healing in the long run.
It is also for the “insiders;” the people cleverly masking their hurt through the excuse of ‘being grumpy’ or heavy traffic or a messed up latte and so on. I want to say that it’s ok to be broken. It’s healthy actually, and it gives you an opportunity to see how many people love you.
Those are my thoughts on the matter. Love to know if anyone ever feels this way.
Felt this way today, friend! I spent my morning tucked away at a co-worker's desk where I proceeded to whine about NOTHING! I had the horrible predicament of no outward issues to use as a scapegoat, either! No- I just sat there sighing in a horribly dramatic way, searching for something to blame it on! And in all honesty- the [childishly] angry part of me just wanted them to pull it out of me. "I was stuck somewhere between a woman and a child" [strawberry wine] A sober dose of good friends got it out of my system throughout the day, though! Ended up being delightful. :)
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