Yet, every once in awhile, this things just build up, one on top of the other, like the Jenga game that won't end. The little things morph and mold, slowly expanding vertically to tower over my head and cast heavy shadow of dark, dangerous anger over my disposition. Because I don't usually get mad, the rare occasion that this shadow actually overlaps into my real-world actions yields powerful and frightening results. Coupled with my stubbornness, it can be quite the spectacle to behold.
I feel clarity is needed. My anger does not consist of random acts of rage, screaming fits, or violent actions (thoughts, perhaps, but no follow through!) of any sort. My anger is that of a perfectly justified, carefully calculated, you-know-you-have-done-me-wrong-and-you-will-feel-the-burn type vengence.
What set me over this time? First, it was the long-awaited delivery of a coat that I had ordered. White, puffy down, with beautiful rabbit's fur running around the hood. Being the girl I am, I had waited in heightened anticipation for this marvelous piece of cozy outerwear, all but guarunteed to bring raised eye-brows and suggestive winks my way. I had ordered it months ago, and had since then recieved a few emails notifying me that it was still being held hostage in a warehouse in an undisclosed location. Last week, an email appeared in my inbox, informing me of it's immenent arrival into my life - needless to say, I was distraught with emotion. The next days seemed like eons, people revolving like gnats around my lethargic, stand-still state of mind.
When I arrived home one day and, like everyday, inquired at the office as to whether I had recieved a certain something, the woman at the office returned a mischevious smile. She knew all about my coat conundrum, and told me with a quiver in her voice that she had been refraining from calling my cell phone all afternoon and giving me the big news. Packages are usually kept in a closet, but, as I made a move towards the door, her smile broadened even more. From under her desk, she unearthed a broad box, fresh from the truck, frangrant with that musty, cold, stale odor that accompanies new packages. We embraced, first the manager and I, and then myself and the package.
I, unable to contain myself, tore it open in the elevator (with the help of my fellow very-large-male passenger, who seemed to greatly sympathize with the uncontrollable excitement I was experiencing). The sound of angels vocalizing filled the small compartment as, out from the tissues, emerged... a completely different coat than what I ordered! An oversized, beige, mesh and shiny something, matronly thing! My heart broke into little pieces... and I proceeded to glue them back with 2 parts forgiveness, 1 part red-hot anger.
The company apologizes profusely for the error and subsequent emotional damage, giving me a full refund. I forgave, but the residual anger started to eat away at me.
This happened right before New Years, on which night I was attending a Roaring 20s themed bash. Not owning anything flapper-esque, I ordered four items from a reputable online costume shop; three accessories and a dress. A couple days before the event, my items finally arrived - all minus the dress! The reciept in the package was correct, but the notification email was not. Though this was irritating, I made due with what I had, concocting a rather marvelous ensemble that was quite the hit during that celebrated bridge of time between years.
I proceeded to attempt to call this company to get a refund for the dress I never recieved. Calling during business hours, I got a voice mail the first time. I left a detailed message, and waited for a couple days for a return contact. Nada. I called a couple days later, during the day, just to get picked up by voice mail again. I left another, more preturbed, message explaining my dilemma. I waited again, for another two days, and, again, nothing. I decided that I would begin to call three times a day, each time leaving messages that explained my dilemma, noted which number call this was, and expressed my growing frustration. I've called three time today. Thier incompetence makes me insanely stubborn and persistant. I WILL get my 30 dollars back!*
These two issues coupled together had greatly decreased my tolerance for idiotic mistakes, and idiots as well.
The little things became burdensome and ennerving.
- My graduate professor holding us to ridiculously high standards. It's supposed to be 10-15hrs a week, not 30.
- The hearing aid office only open 8-4.30 on weekdays. How does that help anyone with a 9-5?!
- The clerk at Starbucks SCREWED me over. I get star rewards (of ever increasing value, like free syrups and even a free refill!) everytime I buy a drink with my rechargeable Starbucks card. Instead of recharging my Starbucks card and then using that to buy the coffee (resulting in another star accumulated, score!), she charged my coffee to my credit card and THEN recharged the card. She cost me a star!! WTF!
- I had a massive pizza craving, and trekked to Walgreens in the snow to satisfy it.bought a box of two personal pizzas, and, when I finally arrived, freezing, exhausted, and hungry at home, I ripped open the box. Each pizza was covered in green mold! WHY?!?!
- The weather is pissing me off. Make up your mind - warm? cold? PICK ONE!
Back to square one. For now!
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*I finally got a hold of them on the second day. They hadn't even listened to their messages, but the woman did inform me that my card had not been charged initially for the dress since it was out of stock. Oops. But still.
