Rage by the dashboard light...

So, this week...

For some reason, I have been in a sort of sad state of mind. Very bizarre to me, actually, because this happens every so often, like a rolling ocean wave. It comes and goes, never know how big it is going to be or how long it is going to last.

One of my FABULOUS qualities I posess because I am a redhead (and Redheads do it Better) is an internal rage that usually compliments the sad state. They don't happen exactly at the same time, but the rage manifests itself when the little nuances of life that don't NORMALLY bother me, start to add up.

No, its not pms, and you are putting me into a rage just by suggesting that :)

Driving home from the day job yesterday, after having spent most of the day in a complete sad funk, I found myself getting pissed off erratically at my cigarette lighter in my car. I have my cell phone charger plugged into this thing, and overall, have never had an issue with it. every now and then, if it is not plugged in all the way, it shuts off, but no big deal...I plug it in tight and viola! It works. the universe decided to fuck with me for the sake of it yesterday.

The charger would not come on - my phone was running out of charge, and I am sure I looked like a crazy woman at the stoplight at 38th and College, windows down, mouthing, "Fuckitall" trying to get this thing plugged in to work.

Proceeding north on College, the situation escalated as apparently shoving the damn thing harder into the lighter-piece doesn't make it work either. On that note, yanking the charger out and slamming the entire thing against the dashboard, or beating the steering wheel making the car horn honk, doesn't get it to work either (in case you wanted to try it).

Reaching the Broad Ripple area, exasperation gave way to me throwing the whole confounded thing into the back seat, and of course, my phone was attached to it. (SON OF A BITCH) So, if you were in Broad Ripple at College and Westfield around 5:15pm yesterday, and heard shrieking like a banshee...um, yeah, that was me...

It was at that point the speed limit suddenly became 75 miles an hour and every car had turned into a tiny squirrel in the road (yes, i have no problem running over squirrels, if you are that dumb to run out in the road, your ass deserves it)...yes, we can say road rage.

Slamming on my breaks at the next stop light, I reach under my seat grasping for the cell phone and charger I had thrown, because I AM a glutton for punishment. Only to reach my hand into SOMETHING that apparently the 'lil man' had eaten in the car, and now had turned into some gelatinous mess, which my hand was now covered in.

Not going to pretend this story ended well, as I said, this week has been a sad state so far, and yesterday seemed to be coupled with the rage...needless to say, I ended up showing up to rehearsal for Harvey looking redder than a lobster and I actually believe I was seething.

Today - we have no rage, we have the exhausted, "after rage" feel, the dejected, complacent, 'whatever' sort of feeling. And that's ok. Today started out feeling rejected, glossed over and neglected, but it was expected. I have expected it all week, and thats ok.

Its ok to welcome feelings of all shapes and sizes, as the bad makes you appreciate the good.

My only concern however, is how I am going to explain to the car people how the ashtray/lighter holder actually got ripped out of the dashboard...