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Wafers of wrath

Samish Bay, September 2010

Having one of those days when everything I do irritates me. I have a fanatical, frantic dry itch crisscrossing my scalp and neck even though the humidity is at 100%. The wet atmosphere has released a spontaneous generation of bugs not known since the writings of Aristotle and  both are conspiring to ruin the huge batch of paper I just sized and hung in the garage to dry. Then there is this pervasive and stuffily languorous bitchiness about like a low-flying stink from cheap incense.  There is even a darkly vibrating fury available in the simple act of placing a dab of hummus atop a saltine, as the cracker breaks and the hummus lands on the keyboard.

Instincts fail me, so I’m making more coffee. I crave a cigarette so bad I can taste it even though I quit 7 years ago. This feels like a pivotal afternoon that could swing either way. A gateway emotion, like a gateway drug, an anger that leads to bigger anger, more satisfying anger. And so satisfying it is, addictive even. I’ve always had anger management issues. The problem is always the same- it feels good to be angry, and often I look for reasons to be angry, even if  the impetus is a mere trifle…or a cracker for godsake.

I’m not outwardly violent, so I usually just take this out on myself; as in a spirited half-minute of head mussing, scuffing and scratching… So I’m not sure if I’m pulling out beach images to calm me down or piss me off even more. I do know the act of writing about it hasn’t helped at all.