I am not now - and really never have been - prone to fits of intense anger. If I'm not happy about something, I'll often keep it to myself. If something boils my blood a bit, I'll level some sarcastic comments - but at a normal decibel level. Only something really serious - or a confluence of factors - can cause me to totally go off. The latter came to pass this morning. This is how it went down:
Factor No. 1: ill designed Connecticut highways. I arrived back to the New Nexus of Hate at 9:00 last night, after a jam-filled trip from Long Island. I did not use the Cross Sound Ferry as I had three days prior, and so I was at the mercy my fellow drivers. Getting off the Island and through New York City was fine. But less than a minute after I crossed the state line into Connecticut, the pace slowed, and it remained slow all the way to Norwalk - about fifteen miles. There was a minor jam in Bridgeport, and also some volume in East Haven. Even after accounting for the stop at White Castle, the journey took well over three hours; this is a trip I've previously managed to accomplish in two and a half.
Factor No. 2: the Elixir of Joy. Once back, I was ready to get my drink on. Two cold bottles of Yuengling from my cooler were teamed up with four bottles of Boston Ale from my refrigerator, and the result was a solid bout of drunkenness last night - and a nice little hangover this morning.
Factor No. 3: the mere sight of the giant black turd. As soon as I'd exited my car, I felt the hate creeping within. Upon reaching my rack on the Submersible Death Trap, I found publications awaiting my attention. There is no such thing as a break when you do what I do.
Factor No. 4: bad timing and no tact whatsoever. I reach my division's space in the engine room, and I'm immediately confronted by PotO'Gold, who was standing Shutdown Roving Watch. He had an issue with the logs on his clipboard, and he didn't think it could wait one second longer. I cut him off, and here's how that exchange went:
Carbs: It's 6:09. I'm not dealing with this for at least twenty-one minutes. (My special liberty chit expired at 0630.)
PotO'Gold: You're the Logroom Yeoman, so-
Carbs: I'M STILL ON SPECIAL LIBERTY, GOD DAMN IT!
PotO'Gold: Then get off the fucking boat!
We went separate ways at this point, both of us knowing that further discourse would lead nowhere. Ten minutes later, I saw him and asked him what the problem was. I then informed that it's bad form to attempt to task someone coming off three days' special liberty, without so much as a normal greeting. He was quite understanding, and we're both past it.
I obtained the last piece of furniture for my apartment this evening - the sofa futon set from IKEA. I wanted to assemble it tonight, but upon opening the packaging, I was surprised to discover that it'd require a lot of hammering. Being as I live in an apartment complex, the other residents wouldn't take too kindly to that kind of a racket on a Friday night. So I'll wait until Sunday to put it together.
I'm putting together another companion page to this blog. I don't want to give a whole lot away, but I will say that one of the major criteria for inclusion is lack of a Y chromosome.