Falling 30 On The Right
98% of the time I am calm, even keeled, patient and worry free.
Occasionally, during this 98% of the time, my wife feels the need to poke me with a stick to be sure I am still alive and breathing.
She calls it “indifference to the point of comatose”.
I call it…”whatever”.
My stepdaughter just asked 3 questions…
1- Can poisoned grapes hurt dogs?
2- Can dogs read minds?
3- Can cats change genders?
Ponder those for a while…back to the story.
The 2% is the part to worry about. It can rear its ugly head at any point, and usually escalates about as quick as an electric shock from a fork in an outlet.
It takes me off guard and wrecks me until something happens to bring perspective to the situation.
Today was 2% day.
Someone I work with…used to work with, called to complain and rant at me and hung up on me before I had a chance to reply.
I don’t like being hung up on…I mean…I’m not going to be IGNORED!!”
I immediately started fuming. My music choice of the day changed from Peter Gabriel
I don’t listen to the hard stuff much anymore…it makes me angry but I keep it around to add fuel to my fire when needed.
I started planning.
I need to go see him face to face and tell him what I think. I need to teach him proper phone etiquette. DOESN’T HE KNOW WHO I THINK I AM?
I turned onto a country road as a shortcut and sped up so I could see the dust flying behind me and watch the country rodents scatter in front of me as I made my way to set things right……
At least, that was my plan.
As I drifted onto the country road…just like Vin Diesel from “The Fast and the Furious”, I came behind this.
I cursed, slammed my hands on the steering wheel and then pulled over to take the picture, changed it to black and white and just looked at for a while……and my 2% rage slowly drifted away and was replaced by calm.
Certain aspects of the photo took me back to my past.
The rear view mirror is dark- just like my past.
The leaning traffic sign on the right-At 30 years old I was an angry man. All the time. Living off cocaine and booze. It was around then when my life was falling over.
The driver is looking forward, drinking coffee, moving at the pace he is required to do so- my dark past is behind me, even though I can still see it and remember the destructiveness of my actions, I don’t have to let it define me or rule me. I can take life at its pace..not mine, and be content and happy.
So he hung up on me. Who cares. I don’t have to accept unacceptable behavior by retaliation. I just have to be ok with who I am and how I handle things.
A picture of a tractor pulled me back from anger.
Now I just have to hope I don’t get poked with a stick.
On a different note question #4 was just asked-
4- Are there pink zebras with green stripes somewhere like in Africa?