Saturday, October 9

false sense of self

Once in a while you take an instant dislike to someone you've only just met. You'd like to kill the person, and if you had a 100% guarantee that you'd never be caught, you'd probably do it.

Today I was briefly at the mercy of someone so insulting (possibly inadvertently) that I reacted very badly, and insulted them back (deliberately and childishly).

If it had been up to me, I would just have said eff you and left. But I was compromised, and for the sake of my companion's birthday treat I had to sit it out for a whole hour and make a big effort to calm down and act nice to this twat.

What made it really stick in my throat was that I was paying this person. At the end, I decided to try and be magnanimous, so I tipped them, but they didn't even acknowledge the tip. What a freaking currant.

I'm still figuring out how my false sense of self might have played a part. "This SHOULDN'T be happening to me. HOW DARE they treat me this way. I can't BEAR this. What a #%@$ this person is. I deserve, even NEED, to have everything in life go well."

The only positive thing about it? For the rest of the day my companion, okay cellmate if you must know, showed huge gratitude for my restraint.

I have to sleep now. I hope the murderous urges have dispersed. I don't want to have nightmares.

- (bed)posted from iPod


  1. Albert? I don't know about you, but I think there's no point in trying to be somebody else, or hoping to be, when someone gets your goat. I think you should follow your tao and take out your gun and shooty shooty them in the head. I've decided that sometimes I get upset and sometimes I don't and that I have little control over this. For instance, I feel a bit depressed today. Somebody died so I feel a bit physically tired. What's all that about? Basturns! I should have made myself some money and got some comforts so I don't get to feel bad!! Hope this helps. Hotboy

  2. Hotters. If only money worked like that, surely the gold bars would have insulated me from this guy?

    PS I suspect in your current case they'd call it appropriate grief rather than depression. Or maybe the depression portion could be about one's own approaching demise. Either way, obviously shooting someone would help.

    PPS The cellmate's glow of pleasure at my willingness to take my medicine was pure biology. They're programmed to get an endorphin rush when a male willingly eats crap to please them. That's my observation anyway.

  3. Hotters. According to Spike Milligan: Money can't buy you happiness, but it does bring you a more pleasant form of misery.

  4. I say!

    I know exactly what you mean. I take an immediate disliking to any new Australian batsman, on their way to the crease.

    I never tip. It only encourages a cargo cult.

    MM III

  5. Mingers. Your reaction is only human.