Donkey of the Shrek fame had always looked up to his master-cum-bestfriend with a certain amount of awe and trepidation. And yet he had the audacity to tell him in his face how fat he stands a chance to be liked by the in-laws he was about to meet, because he was a sullen, cantakerous, dour face of an ogre.
Sometimes we need a friend as honest as Donkey to gently budge us out of our undesirable state of mind and look at the brighter side of life.
Unfortunately for me, there is no donkey for a friend to watch my ass and tell me how it's sticking out...I had to figure all things out for myself.
Just a few days ago, I was ranting about shortsighted co-workers. I even went to the extent of calling them mice. Boy was I really boiling that day! I snapped at my officemate Paul, who by the way, had nothing to do with my crossness that day but was snapped at just the same if only to validate my righteous anger with J and make my point. Poor paul..
And then I upset another officemate Rex by mincing uncalled-for words which weren't meant to sound sharp or harsh but because I was feeling rotten, had sounded like slur anyhow....
Meaning, in one afternoon, it seemed to everyone that I was freaked out, all ready spoiling for a fight. I wasn't. I was just terribly angry at myself for not being able to express my feeling of anger and resentment in the right way to the right person without sacrificing my self-dignity.
The rage comes first, and blindly I fight through the rest of the day moping around but never getting my message across, even when I'm dead sure my subject of contention has noticed the v-e-r-y sour face looking straight into space.
That very moment I wished the quintessential Dr. Phil was around to give me invaluable lessons on anger management. Oh pleeeease, as if..
But once all the steam had gone off and I had cooled down to my senses, I begin to take stock of things that happened.
Paradigm shift. Shift from one value to another, from ideal to the bestest. Evil to goodness. Black to white. Sumthin like that...
I found myself in the early morning of the second day of my self-imposed War against the World, texting Paul and making my apologies. It took only that and I was replied with a forgiving "it's okay, no problem" text. Such a relief, that I have actually forgotten how I managed to be angry with J for vague reasons.
I appreciated the feeling of emancipation from my rut, so I wasted no time saying sorry to Rex too, who met my apologies with some doubt but with acceptance. Mission accomplished. Everything is well that ends well.
Well, not really. I'm slowly trying to forgive J. Although he hasn't an iota of what I went through these past few days...isn't it ironic?
If only people don't give me shit.
Then I won't have to making any rubbish of a blog like this.
And I hope my husband reads this.
Sometimes we need a friend as honest as Donkey to gently budge us out of our undesirable state of mind and look at the brighter side of life.
Unfortunately for me, there is no donkey for a friend to watch my ass and tell me how it's sticking out...I had to figure all things out for myself.
Just a few days ago, I was ranting about shortsighted co-workers. I even went to the extent of calling them mice. Boy was I really boiling that day! I snapped at my officemate Paul, who by the way, had nothing to do with my crossness that day but was snapped at just the same if only to validate my righteous anger with J and make my point. Poor paul..
And then I upset another officemate Rex by mincing uncalled-for words which weren't meant to sound sharp or harsh but because I was feeling rotten, had sounded like slur anyhow....
Meaning, in one afternoon, it seemed to everyone that I was freaked out, all ready spoiling for a fight. I wasn't. I was just terribly angry at myself for not being able to express my feeling of anger and resentment in the right way to the right person without sacrificing my self-dignity.
The rage comes first, and blindly I fight through the rest of the day moping around but never getting my message across, even when I'm dead sure my subject of contention has noticed the v-e-r-y sour face looking straight into space.
That very moment I wished the quintessential Dr. Phil was around to give me invaluable lessons on anger management. Oh pleeeease, as if..
But once all the steam had gone off and I had cooled down to my senses, I begin to take stock of things that happened.
Paradigm shift. Shift from one value to another, from ideal to the bestest. Evil to goodness. Black to white. Sumthin like that...
I found myself in the early morning of the second day of my self-imposed War against the World, texting Paul and making my apologies. It took only that and I was replied with a forgiving "it's okay, no problem" text. Such a relief, that I have actually forgotten how I managed to be angry with J for vague reasons.
I appreciated the feeling of emancipation from my rut, so I wasted no time saying sorry to Rex too, who met my apologies with some doubt but with acceptance. Mission accomplished. Everything is well that ends well.
Well, not really. I'm slowly trying to forgive J. Although he hasn't an iota of what I went through these past few days...isn't it ironic?
If only people don't give me shit.
Then I won't have to making any rubbish of a blog like this.
And I hope my husband reads this.
