Saturday, August 29, 2009

So for the last few days I have been in...a bitchy phase. Premenstrual. Cheez-it cravings (for someone whose normal diet includes foods that sound like the punch line to an uncharitable joke about hippies--lentil loaf, bulghur salad, soy burgers--and for whom eating saturated fat is akin to promising my firstborn child to the dread lord Satan). Profound lethargy. Tearing up at the thought that someday my dog is going to die. And, most surprising and uncharacteristic of all, being visited with the urge to bludgeon a sizeable percentage of the people around me with blunt objects.
Wednesday night roomie brings boyfriend over at 11 pm. Fine. Whatever. I'm trying to sleep. Our rooms are on either side of the bathroom, and the heating/cooling ducts connect all 3 rooms, but most particularly hers and mine, so that one can hear, through the ducts, exactly what is going on in the next room. Roomie and boy are talking. Annoying, but what am I going to do, tell them to shut up? Plug in white noise machine, turn it to 'waterfall,' crank it. Then they start...well, I don't even know for certain what they were doing. It sounded like it might have been one of those little 'personal' shredders, or like they were using hair clippers for Christ only knows what reason. Turn up waterfall. Apply pillow to head. Imagine applying pillow to roomie's head, at high speed.
Sitting in class, watching as five (literally, simultaneously, five) people take out apples and start eating them. Feel guilty about having Cheez-Its for breakfast. Wish people at this school weren't so damn health-obsessed all the time (it's not like it's a medical sch--oh, wait). Listen to the crunching. Feel my last nerve being plucked, dangerously, about to give way. I am not a huge fan of eating sounds, in myself or others. Let's be honest, especially not in others. Two people sitting behind me begin to talk, cramming as many polysyllabic, pretentious words into their back-and-forth as humanly possible--which makes it not only distracting but grating and prickish. If I wanted to watch two pricks in action I'd rent a porno, I think to myself.

Jung said we must all confront our shadow sides in order to be truly whole. One week a month I see mine. I am generally well-controlled enough to prevent my bile from spilling into the world at large (I say perhaps 1% of the truly appalling things I think-- I don't know if this is a larger or smaller percentage than the average).

No comments: