Anger Management

I'm upgrading the firmware in several hundred modems ONE. AT. A. TIME. (and wishing I had some leet programming sk1llz) and surfing the 'nets when I realize that I am angry. Likely to snap at someone without provocation, stomping around snarly-faced, jaw-locked angry. As I've learned to do since working steps and trying to recover from the assy self-centeredness that is tangled up with addiction, I review my last several hours. Was I pissy this morning? Not particularly. Have I been given a new assignment or new deadline (both of which create anxiety that I tend to channel into pissiness)? No. Is anything stressful on the horizon? Nothing unusual: dance lesson (dancing with strangers is inherently stressful to me and I said last week I'd stya for the social dance later in the evening but I forgot about...) and new Lost (that!!!! and am afraid I'll look stupid begging off for TV) tonight, free evening tomorrow, Candlemas Saturday (and ritual always annoys me until I'm finished prepping and actually there), and Super Bowl party Sunday; busy, yes, but not unmanageably so. The only thing I can think of is the annoying phone call I received earlier about having to go downstairs and pick up my new work badge.

Really? I'm that disturbed by that? Yes, she was weirdly unprofessional on the phone: mispronouncing my name isn't that unusual but I assume you're someone I don't know if you do so; trying to get information from me without introducing herself got my defenses up. I think the bottom line, though, is that we had to have new pictures taken, and I have to give up my current super-model-looking ID. Seriously - I look tan and young with perfect make-up and a strong chin. It's a great picture. And I've been meaning to scan it, knowing these new badges were coming. She asked if I could come down this afternoon and I lied right to her face (ear) and asked if I could come tomorrow. Giving me tonight to scan it, finally. Because I am so completely wack at almost every available opportunity.

It's exhausting in my crazy brain, I tell you. I'm considering blowing off dancing (even though it will be my first physical exercise of the week) just to avoid more stress. Ah, but I can't, because I'm hoping to retrieve the white sweat jacket I left there last week about which I left TWO voice-mails (and almost one email) - because I fear an imminent white sweat jacket shortage? Exhausting. And crazy. They say knowing is half the battle. I'm not sure I'm up to the other half.