She Hulk and the Pretzel Gal

I feel like a pretzel again. The day was quiet for the most part 'til about 2 o' clock, when hell broke loose. Again. Having worked here for over a year and a half now, and watching all the moronic activity that goes on constantly, you'd think this crap wouldn't phase me anymore. But, it does.

I am so tired of this. This constant cycle of unproductivity that stems from an inability to learn from past mistakes. This thinking that "we" are above reproach and can smile and lie "our" way out of things. I'm pretty sure there's a proverb somewhere that says something like "a fool is one who refuses to learn from his mistakes."




Last night while enjoying dinner and a show with some liberti folk, my friend Arlene and I started to talk about life, particularly my work life. I shocked her with my mean-spiritedness, something I can't quite remember if I was born with or if it's grown on me, like putrid, rotting fungus this past year and a half working here. I laughed it off in hopes of buffering some of the shock I had instilled. But at the end of the day, I felt awkward. Ashamed. Uncomfortable. Unhinged (again).

I can be two-faced. The definition of polar opposites. None of you know this about me because I can hide it pretty well... most of the time. (I think?)

I can turn on a dime when provoked. And, if you watch close I bet you can see the change: I'll shut down, not speak a word, fold into myself and skulk about as if under a storm cloud, waiting hopelessly for the ugliness in me to pass. I'll be electrified with rage. A wall of ice and jagged rock will form and there is nothing that can be done, but stand back and wait for it to pass or watch for the train wreck that will undoubtedly take place. It's uncontrolable.

I wish I was more patient, more understanding, more compassionate, but I am not. I am none of those things.

If I've tarnished the image you had of me, of this funny, jovial, happy-go-lucky gal, please accept my apologies. You see, if you look really, really close you can see the ugly, monster within. All the cover-up and concealer in the world can't hide that.

I just hope and pray that the fires of Christ's redemptive work will destroy all of me, the "good" and the bad. It's just so obvious that without it, I'm a hopeless, raging mess.