Cranky cranky cranky.
I, AuntyB, expert coffee maker-and-meeting-room-wrangler-for-random-Korean-professionals, ponytail-wearing, hair-drying novice, dance fetishist, word-smith, ghost writer, snack-providing-inner-urban-hostess-with-the-mostest , have got the utter shits.
I shall not trouble you, gentle readers with the cause of this angst. It would not be becoming of me to do so. I shall merely share with you some possiblities of, comment-vous-parlez, "anger-management" as we refer to it in the modern junk-pop-speak.
1. Write lengthy, bitter sarcastic email(s). Hm - not so good as they tend to have a permanent life out there in cyberspace. Upside - immediate vent. Downside - tends to make one look like a complete twat with OCD. And who needs email anyway when you have a BLOG? Ta da!
2. Eat a meal consisting of doritos, salsa, samosas (deepfried), and dumplings, all in one sitting. Did it. Just made me feel full and slightly sick. Still pissed.
3. Take it out on colleagues. Now there is an idea. They're all completely pre-conditioned to tiptoe around young women in the workplace for fear of charges of harassment, bullying or
discrimination. But then those suity tend to act nice to your face then go away and nurse their simmering resentment until they get a chance to shaft you reeaal god. Been there done that, not so flash.
4. Relfect on how lucky, safe, rich and blessed with good health one is, and really what does one have to complain about?. BO-ring.
5. Smash something up. Anyone got any interesting old stuff what needs destroying? Post in comments kiddies. We could make it art , you know. Take some ditigal photos and make a montage for the punters. We could stage "group-rage-therapy" a new completely misguided self help cult that I just invented. Yeh. Pass it off as some kind of peace-creation by venting all those daily aggrevations, insults, and pyscholoical cuts and wounds one suffers living in the harsh world that we do.
6. Wait for it to pass, and exercise adult restraint in not posting to blog read by some of one's best friends who are bound to check in on ones' state of mind and ask embarassing questions. Well that realy would be sensible wouldn't it? But part of the whole "Story of B" seems to be about getting less sensible as one gets older. As Marcia would say.. "Just go with it, darling"
7. Cultivate a hermit-like , intellectually rigorous and witty persona online with a multitude of fans and a bright new future in the Americas? Nope, the Christian already has the corner on that market.
8. Jog, swim, walk, or do something vaguely aerobic? Are you kidding, that would actually like, work, in flushing out the anger hormones, and I like to wallow, dammit.
9. Cultivate some totally absorbing mental activity that encourages a "state of flow" as espoused by Ross Gittins like writing, painting, doing a thesis, etc etc. Is it okay if this pursuit isolates one from the rest of humanity, creating a cocoon-like impenetrable shell of distance? Coz I've always seen that as a bit of a boy thing really. Maybe that's why blokes often seem to have their shit together more.
10. Drink. (hic) Er , not this week - my liver is silently screaming and trying to book online for a vegan detox clinic in the Blue Mountains.
Well there you have it - Aunty B's top 10 options list for getting out those frustrations. Let me know if any work as I'm off to blob on the couch, Ta ra.