Hopefully? A Step in the Right Direction

Deep title, no? Don't get worked up. It's about nothing.

The other day my boyfriend mentioned that he loves my hands because they are always so warm. AAWWwwww, right? Um, sorry, I’m not that girl. What I realized though, at that moment, is that the reason my hands are always so warm? I think my blood may be at a constant boil. Why? The rage.

So, the rage. Not the best. And it’s getting a little difficult to contain. I think the problem with the rage is that it is continually sparked by things I have no control over. Like what, you ask? How about a list:

Global warming
The mouse that I think is still in my %$#@ing apartment (why oh why did I ever bring up Lesson #1? It’s hurting me. Physically. I need to throw up a little bit, is what I’m saying.)
Everyone under the age of 24 (Nieces and nephews excluded of course)
Everyone, and I mean everyone, on television. (Except! Run’s House. I know. I’m obsessed. But it just makes me smile, ok? OK?!?)
My very belated for no apparent reason raise
My hair
My giant dome that I have knocked three times in one day on the doorframe of my car and then on a table. I hate myself.
Traffic
People with bumper stickers
Stand up comedians
AND, first and foremost, my cellphone.

Now, you probably don’t have rage. You probably are normal and your blood actually dips below 200 degrees on a regular basis and you are not always always ALWAYS hot. (Alternative explanation for why I can never ever sleep under the covers until the ice forms on my nose? Super-early menopause. And doesn’t that make me feel better?...No it does not.)

If you are someone with rage though, let me give you this advice.

Replace your cell phone. Now. Today. IMMEDIATELY. (Why couldn’t you just listen the first time. Why did you make me yell? People? The rage. Pay attention!)

Granted, I should not have stuck with my cell phone for so long. If nothing else, the rotary dial should have tipped me off that I was not buying the most up-to-date model on the market. But! Stick with it I did in the name of frugality, being a grad school student (First I wrote law school student and totally thought it was right. I did not go to law school and seeing as how I am, well, myself, I should have picked up on that. Sad), and self-punishment for spilling a bottle of water on my last cell phone that I loved Loved LOVED because I could set a picture of a fish on the screen.

But I have hated my phone since day one. And the fact that it always drops my calls has not been good for the rage. I mean every time a call gets cut off or my battery dies not three hours after it has charged for an entire day, the rage becomes such that my head pops off. And that’s just messy. I have to flail around the until I can find it, then I have to screw it back on, and then I have to coax my poor boyfriend out of whatever corner he is cowering in because I have almost burned down the apartment with the rage. (And also, don’t you fucking (whoops!) hate that I keep saying “my boyfriend”? Punch me in the face already! We’ll call him by his name…eh, what if someone kills him. We’ll call him what I usually type when I type his name. Um, that’s mean. We’ll call him “D’oh!” That’s close enough. And that’s not mean at all since he just called me uninformed about world events! Hi!)

So, long story not even a little bit shorter, I have bought a new phone. It will arrive shortly and peace will be restored to the land. For that day, at least.