The dangers of frustration
I’m about to go shopping (again) today, to try and get the things I failed to get yesterday. Target, apparently, found out what was on my list and immediately rid their shelves of all of it, and as such, I was unable to purchase one damn thing that I wanted. Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one thing there I could have gotten, but I had become so frustrated from not finding of the other items on my list that I somehow decided it wasn’t even worth it. How peculiar!
The thing is, this isn’t by any means the first time I’ve let my frustration guide my actions. It’s happened before with shopping, but I hardly go shopping, because I hate spending money. Really, it’s almost like I’m Scrooge McDuck, only real (and human.. and not old.. and not Scottish or whatever he was supposed to be). The one thing, though, that I’m generally willing to spend money on, though as little as I can manage, is food. But even food (and I’m a big fan of food) is not immune to the dangers of frustration.
If something frustrates me when I’m trying to decide what to eat at a restaurant — they don’t have what I want, the prices are higher than I expected, there’s a special on buffalo wings that doesn’t include boneless wings which is nothing but pure and unadulterated bullsh*t — I often get what I call “hangry.” To be hangry is to be hungry, but so angry that you can’t eat. It’s not a great feeling, and it worries me that something as unimportant as the above can lead me to a state of distinct unpleasantness. A perfect blend of seething and sulking, I’m pretty much as grey as winter until something later cheers me up, at which point I may or may not eat the previously-skipped meal. Something’s wrong with that, right?
I’ve always had a tempestuous relationship with my own tempestuousness. What it comes down to (I fear) may be that I’m incapable of controlling my emotions, once they’ve been let loose. Thank goodness I hardly ever succumb to strong emotion. In other words, it’s like I’m a hemophiliac who doesn’t wound easily. So, a good 95% of the time, there’s not a drop of blood spilt.. but for that other 5%, you better grab a tourniquet. That seems to be a fair analogy, so I’m sticking with it, until time and my own predisposition to disproving myself gang up on the theory.
I totally know what you mean, with the hunger + angry…If I get too hungry, I become a really impatient, not nice person. I don’t like that it happens, so my solution is to always have food with me–you should see the pockets of my white coat!
Nick, we haven’t had the pleasure of interacting for the last twelve years or so, but I figured now would be a better time than never to say hello!
With or without mood-altering emotion, I eat fast and I eat lots!
I remember you being a huge Kentucky basketball fan in 6th grade. Are you ultimately a Kentucky fan or a Pitino fan? Late.
Eileen: I should really carry cookies around with me everywhere I go. But then I run the risk of growing blue fuzz and googly eyes.
Jason: Oh wow.. it’s been since middle school! I was probably a UK fan by proxy (to my mother) than by choice. I have since become a casual fan, one that really only cares once the tournament starts and, quite frankly, not even that so much in recent years. What have you been up to since adolescence?
Yes, cookies would be good. But a healthier & non-C-is-for-cookie alternative would be almonds. Seriously, they help & are less messy.