Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
I have seen some changes in myself since this whole thing began. I don’t know if they are hormonal or sticking changes. I don’t even really know if they are good or bad changes.
For one thing, I feel more confrontational. Sometimes I am quite aware that it’s just hormones, like the time I was waiting in a long line at Subway and it suddenly seemed a marvelous idea for me to go inform the workers that the line would go faster if each of them would get their lazy butts in gear and work more than one station at once. (I’m sorry, but when there is a line of twenty people, you should have the ability to spread mustard AND work the cash register.) I was so enraged by their ineptness, it also seemed a good idea to call the Subway headquarters and complain about the workers at this particular restaurant. But even in my hormonal state, I still knew that I was just hungry and managed to keep my rage to simply glaring at the lazy cash register operator (and after I got food in my stomach, all seemed right with the world and I forgot about my planned rage-induced phone call to the president of Subway, Inc.)
But then, a coworker of mine recently falsely reported something that I had supposedly said to another coworker. The old me would just simmer and stew about it. But in this instance, I sat there and really thought about it. I decided that if I truly felt all that slighted, I would just go talk to her when she got back from her business trip. But I realized that I honestly didn’t care about the incident, and I got over it. (If it happens again, though, I will say something. And I don’t give a rat’s ass if it rocks the boat.) I know it’s basic psychology 101, but life really is easier when you are honest with people. And if it’s not important enough to make an issue, then let it go.
My friend Kyle, who sat next to me for two years, mentioned the change in me recently. He said, “You used to be like one of your cartoon characters. Sort of a cloud over your head because people walked all over you. Now...you are kinda feisty and don’t put up with it.” So I suppose that’s good.
Ironically, the other thing that has changed is that I don’t feel like arguing anymore. I’ve sat through many political discussions recently and didn’t feel the inclination to say a dadgum thing. I quietly sat and equally listened to my father’s liberal views one weekend, and my father-in-law’s conservative views the next, without any interjections on either side. When someone says something stupid, misguided or even just misinformed, I don’t feel like correcting them or ripping them a new one (which, of course, I would do passive aggressively.) I just shut my mouth. It takes too much energy to argue.
And one last thing...I seem to have lost all ambitious and creative drive. I go to work, do the dishes, fold the laundry, watch “The Daily Show,” play my electronic Solitaire game in bed and that’s it. I have come to the realization that I might not “amount to anything” in life. This little life of mine might be it. All those projects that I have so steadily worked on over the years might just sit on the shelf, collecting dust. And that doesn’t really bother me for some reason. Well, sometimes it bothers me that it doesn’t bother me, but that’s where I am.
For one thing, I feel more confrontational. Sometimes I am quite aware that it’s just hormones, like the time I was waiting in a long line at Subway and it suddenly seemed a marvelous idea for me to go inform the workers that the line would go faster if each of them would get their lazy butts in gear and work more than one station at once. (I’m sorry, but when there is a line of twenty people, you should have the ability to spread mustard AND work the cash register.) I was so enraged by their ineptness, it also seemed a good idea to call the Subway headquarters and complain about the workers at this particular restaurant. But even in my hormonal state, I still knew that I was just hungry and managed to keep my rage to simply glaring at the lazy cash register operator (and after I got food in my stomach, all seemed right with the world and I forgot about my planned rage-induced phone call to the president of Subway, Inc.)
But then, a coworker of mine recently falsely reported something that I had supposedly said to another coworker. The old me would just simmer and stew about it. But in this instance, I sat there and really thought about it. I decided that if I truly felt all that slighted, I would just go talk to her when she got back from her business trip. But I realized that I honestly didn’t care about the incident, and I got over it. (If it happens again, though, I will say something. And I don’t give a rat’s ass if it rocks the boat.) I know it’s basic psychology 101, but life really is easier when you are honest with people. And if it’s not important enough to make an issue, then let it go.
My friend Kyle, who sat next to me for two years, mentioned the change in me recently. He said, “You used to be like one of your cartoon characters. Sort of a cloud over your head because people walked all over you. Now...you are kinda feisty and don’t put up with it.” So I suppose that’s good.
Ironically, the other thing that has changed is that I don’t feel like arguing anymore. I’ve sat through many political discussions recently and didn’t feel the inclination to say a dadgum thing. I quietly sat and equally listened to my father’s liberal views one weekend, and my father-in-law’s conservative views the next, without any interjections on either side. When someone says something stupid, misguided or even just misinformed, I don’t feel like correcting them or ripping them a new one (which, of course, I would do passive aggressively.) I just shut my mouth. It takes too much energy to argue.
And one last thing...I seem to have lost all ambitious and creative drive. I go to work, do the dishes, fold the laundry, watch “The Daily Show,” play my electronic Solitaire game in bed and that’s it. I have come to the realization that I might not “amount to anything” in life. This little life of mine might be it. All those projects that I have so steadily worked on over the years might just sit on the shelf, collecting dust. And that doesn’t really bother me for some reason. Well, sometimes it bothers me that it doesn’t bother me, but that’s where I am.
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