There May or May Not Be a Moral Involved in This Story. If There Is, I Missed It.

So I had this post all ready to go, and was going to publish it, but I got busy. It involved me talking about my job and my teaching style (for those of you who DON'T stalk me, I teach at a small private college in Michigan).  Now I am glad I hit save instead of publish on that bitch, because I have a distinct feeling I might have been dooce'd had I done this.  I mean, I am not exactly anonymous.  It wasn't bad or anything, but recent ... frustrations in my life have led me to realize that everything is incredibly tenuous.  The good and bad come and go very quickly, and the bad can really blindside you if you aren't prepared.


ANYWAY, the part of the post that still applies is this:  I have been having tremendously bad things pile up on me lately.  So much so that I have a constant pressure in my chest, and that horrible feeling in my throat like at any moment something might explode out of me, and I have no idea if it will be tears, curse words, vomit, or insane screaming.


Due to all of this anger and sadness and the oh-woe-is-me feelings, I have been walking around feeling the intense desire to punch every person I meet. Yup, I'm just walking around like a normal person, but I am mere inches from punching like a .... person who punches.  Like, if I saw a puppy, I would think about punching it.  But then I wouldn't punch it, because it's a PUPPY for Christ's sake.  I'm not HITLER (little known fact -- Hitler was a full-time puppy puncher).

Thinking about punching you.  But won't.

Anyway, I have been doing an extremely good job at holding in the rage (in my opinion, anyway). I haven't punched anyone yet.  But then this happened.


We decided to go to an early showing of Shutter Island today (side note: worth watching).  We had popcorn, sodey-pop, and a bag of candy.  We had excellent seats, and I was feeling the pressure on my chest lift.  Then a huge noisy group of seven young "men" and one young "lady" came spilling into the theater.  Guess where they decided to sit?  Yeah, right behind us.


I have VERY LITTLE tolerance for rude movie people.  Talking, kicking my seat, and cell phone usage?  Very quick way to ignite my movie theater rage.  Guess what they thought might be fun?  Yes.  These exact behaviors.  


Finally, about an hour into the movie, the discussion behind me had reached a fever pitch.  Like, non-stop discussion.  So, I turned and looked those little bastards straight in the eye and said, "Seriously.  Stop it.  NOW." and turned around.  


At first, all I could think about was my heart racing and the fight or flight hormones flowing through my body, and when my brain gave me those two options, I was thinking FIGHT!  Then I felt happy, because they were silent.


Then my heart slowed down, and I was able to see what I had stared at when I faced those monsters:  Teenagers.  18, 20 tops.  And they looked ... scared.  Like, maybe how you would be when you were a kid and a scary adult said something scary or mean.


Shit.  I am a mean scary old lady.  It really snuck up on me.  


But at least I didn't punch anyone.


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