Brain Hurts

Yesterday I was crunching revenues all day long. I love numbers, but you know how you love something so much and focus on it all day long? And I focus really well. I started to have a love/hate relationship with it. So I grabbed my assistant and went for a walk. We walked right by Fraiche, which has the best cookies in the freaking world. So I stopped in there. I pulled out some cash to pay for the cookie and then started talking to my assistant, then started walking out the store. The cashier guy had to chase me down the street to give me my cookie. OMG. My assistant almost rolled into the street laughing her butt off at me. I couldn't stop laughing either... at myself for being such a dufus.

You see... I'm like that. The entire left side of my brain focuses, zooms into the field of concentration. But then it maxes itself out and I am barely functional. I can sort of understand geniuses like Einstein, how they can barely tie their shoes. Cause I can barely remember to take the cookie I just paid for! When I was working for a startup, building their accounting department, sending reports to investors, I could barely talk by the time I got home. My head didn't hurt, but my brain hurt! The neurons wouldn't fire anymore... they went on strike. One time I was too tired to cook, so I thought to just heat up a can of soup. And I did. I turned on the stove, pulled out a pot and stuck the can in the pot and left the kitchen. Thank god I came back to see what I had done seconds later.

And my laughing assistant? I got her back. I had her do some bank recs for me all day long one day. Later that day as she was driving us downtown, she turned left onto Geary Street... right into oncoming traffic. I screamed for her to quickly turn around before we get demolished by the denizens of SF-ers raging down the very busy street. She didn't go far enough onto Geary to get past the median into the correct side of traffic. We still laugh about it to this day.

________

In other parts of the world, there was a little war on Facebook between Meetup guy and I. He called me a douchebag on a note, obviously dedicated to me. He's in his 40's, you'd think he'd be mature enough to call me out PRIVATELY over what was bothering him. I was so enraged I almost saw red. And I liked it. Too much. It's been a long time since I have been that angry. I have a very, very nasty temper. That's why Johnny and I got along so well. But unlike Johnny, it takes a lot to rile me. The last time I got that mad, it was years ago, when my fist went for Johnny's trachea. I was ready to rip the brakes out of his car. And then all the training was brought forth, warning me that I like anger too much. In fact, my favorite emotions are extreme joy and extreme anger. I'm not a child unable to control my anger, I'm not a loose canon like Johnny. So I took a deep breath, stated my thoughts on Meetup guy's Facebook note, then promptly de-friended him. I also untagged him from all my photos. Hell, I even messaged the photographer from the Bubble Lounge party to take down his photos. I don't need people like that in my life. I don't need the drama.

The taste of anger is like honey to me. My shrink said it was because of all the shit my family put me through as a child and I was too helpless to fight back. Now, I'm not so helpless anymore. However, I don't need to be burning down houses or hiding bodies these days.