I look great. My hair is freshly cut and colored, my face made up dramatically. Sexy clothes, all in black. No, I'm not going to the nightclub, but planned on going to my catering job. In fact, went to my catering job. And was sent home because the expected party of 300 tanked with less than 20 people arriving in the first hour. Since I rode in with E and A was at a movie, I had to take public transit home and now I find myself looking good and feeling bad.
These kinds of things throw me into a funk and I get pissy at the world. And then I decide that I'm not going to be pissy and instead I'm going to productive. On the train, I planned all the things I would do - get into some comfy clothes, walk the dog then work on my side project until I'm tired then either watch a movie or read before having an early sleep. Then I got home, sat in front of the computer and can't seem to get myself going. I could have toted drinks and spoken to the class of 1997 all night, but now that I'm home, I can't get off my increasingly fat ass even to take off this incredibly uncomfortable but very sexy bra.
I hope anyone reading this is laughing, because I am - I'm being more than a little melodramatic. Hyperbole just comes easily to me, especially in this state of mind. I am pretty pissy and very annoyed at the place of business though. For about 2 minutes, I fantasized about posting a Craigslist rant about the bar I was working at and their bad business practices, such as how they encourage the servers to "push alcohol," but then I realized that if found, they would easily figure out that the server who got sent home was probably the one who wrote it. If they didn't sue me for slander, they would at least fire me. And even though I don't want to work there anymore due to the shoddy management, poor execution and unenjoyable coworkers, I don't want that to be their decision.
Maybe I better take a bunch of deep breaths and listen to the chanting CDs before E gets off (yes, she's working there, too and yes, it's that bar) and A calls after his movie since I am really good at channeling my frustration and irritation onto other people when it's really nothing more than a bad situation that I'm struggling to deal with. I think run-on sentences, when said aloud, just fuel one's annoyance and bitchy attitude too. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen from speaking continually. I find myself holding my breath even when typing long sentences. Maybe that's how non-violent communication works. Short sentences such as such as 'I see,' 'I feel,' 'I need' and 'I would like' allow much more breathing. Maybe it'll help to take the bra off too.