God, it's been crazy lately. Approaching our "on" season. It always gets busier in winter, you know, seasonal affective disorder and all. And now baseball season is over, and as you can imagine, Sashial and I were pretty unhappy about what happened to the Yankees. Lira's response was pretty much in character. "Maybe you two will actually stop worrying about a bunch of euphoric millionaires and get back to actually helping people who need it."
"At least I'm fucking passionate about something," said Sashial.
I chimed in with, "And you know I've been working my ass off, once the weather broke the depression was overwhelming."
Lira smiled, "Baby, it's been well over a year now, the fact that you still can't tell when I'm not serious is so sweet in its imbecility."
"Oh I know when you're kidding," I said, "and I'd laugh it off but I know sharing belligerence is what you live for."
Sashial grabbed my neck and shook me. "I fucking love this guy."
Speaking of belligerence, this kind of leads to a question I've been wondering lately: which is worse, living with anger or sorrow? My first thought was sorrow because that's been my experience, but when I thought deeper I wasn't so sure. Then I tried to think of what was typical. One recent job I had was this guy who was seething with rage, all because some douchebag in the supermarket cut in front of him when they opened up a new lane and then claimed he was letting him go first and got all self-righteous about it, starting in with, "Oh, Jeeeeesus, I mean GOD!"
"Real fucking condescending crybaby shit," my subject told me. We'll call him Tom. "Yeah, he was letting me in, that's why he ran in front of me and got to the line first, that fucking liar, god, when I think about it I just want to find the guy and punch his fucking face in." And Tom's not a violent guy, the guy's attitude just really got under his skin. This kind of crap is pretty easy, you just give them a stock line about how sad the other guy's life must be to pull stupid crap like that, they calm down and by the next they've practically forgotten all about it.
That's the thing about most forms of anger, it's usually an emotional reflex, a short term visceral reaction that's often bigger in your head than it is in real life. The sudden onslaught is like an emotional assault you perpetrate on yourself, that's why the way you see it can be skewed. Especially in this case, because who knows if that guy in the supermarket's intent was malicious or not? It could just be Tom's perception. Why is that? I later had another run in with Tom that shed some light on things. Or so I thought, 'cause it also made me think my theories were a little off. But more on that tomorrow (hopefully).
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