i am a mean person, and yes, i suck

Jen and I had a fight the other night. One of the things she said was that one of the main reasons our relationship has troubles is because I'm a mean person. It's true. I'm a jerk. I am one of the people that the slogan rails against.

Here's an example that drove it home for me. No pun intended. The other night I was leaving work early to go see my shrink. I ended up behind someone who was being more cautious than I thought they needed to be. I'm in a rush and stuck behind some vile little toad who doesn't give a shit about anyone but themselves.

I got tired of waiting for this person to drive more aggressively so I honked at them. I started to pantomime violently that they should speed up. I started to hurl laser beams at the back of their head. I began to hate this person.

Then I realized it was Jen.

We work out of the same building, and she was driving home. You'd think I'd be able to recognize my own car from behind, but I didn't.

I was heaping violent hatred on someone I love and treasure. I was terribly ashamed of myself for feeling the way I had. Then I realized that it didn't matter if it was Jen or some stranger. There is no one who deserves the kind of hatred I was throwing around.

out of time

I'm out of time and it's freaking me out. I'm nearly 40 and I feel like I have no way left to "win." I can't see a way to insure Saula's educational, or financial well being. If we buy a house now we won't own it until we're 70! We will never be able to retire. I'm going to be paying off my student loans until I'm 50! I don't earn enough money. I'm panicking.

Mid-life crisis. Mid-life. How strange. I'm in the period in which the halfway point of my life will occur.

This started yesterday on Facebook. A guy who I thought I had left behind in high school asked to be my friend. This guy had a superhero body in 6th grade. Athletic, attractive, popular, friendly, fun, married his high school sweetheart, stayed in the burbs... pretty much the antithesis of me.

I always consoled myself with the idea that people like him "peaked" in high school. Well they didn't. While I was screwing up in college and experimenting with drugs and mental illness, this guy went to school, got married, started a family, got a job, and worked himself into a senior position. He probably has savings for his kids' college, money for retirement, and owns his house (or will soon).

All of the things I thought were important, weren't. All of the things I thought weren't important, were.

the shelves

I got bent out of shape Saturday about these shelves I was hanging in the kitchen. They are hung horribly and, due to their inferior design, won't support any weight.

I'm mad at Jen for pressuring me to use inferior drywall anchors. She didn't want me to get sidetracked and waste the day looking for the best anchors. I can understand where Jen is coming from. I don't have a track record of finishing projects. In fact, I almost never do.

In order to calm me down Jen said she would finish up the shelves herself.

Later that night I lashed out at Jen for buying the poorly designed shelves; choosing the house with the warped walls; pressuring me to use the inferior anchors; and basically every imperfect aspect of reality that I could link to her.

Not cool.