Managing rage: Finding magic when the world is burning

I’m not good at being angry. If we get in a fight, odds are, I’ll want to hug it out and be happy hours or even minutes later. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be mad at someone or something.

If something makes me mad, I’ll rage about it for a few minutes, and then I’ll suggest we go get ice cream. When I’ve had a bad day? I make a cheese plate. When I feel like the world is going to shit, I’ll buy an annual pass to Walt Disney World and fly my ass down to Orlando multiple times a year. Because joy. And we all deserve a little joy. So I spread it where I can.

Woman Holding annual passholder card in front of EPCOT Spaceship Earth

My joy does not mean I’m not watching and listening and yelling at the top of my lungs. It doesn’t mean I’m not angry. But we all need a bright light. I need a bright light. I need to shine my light.

Sure, I’d rather look at the positive and not talk about what a shit show of a year it is, was, or will be. I’d rather put my energy into the bright side of things than the despair and frustration that seems to be the focus for a lot of people. That doesn’t mean I don’t see or feel the sadness. That doesn’t mean I don’t see or feel the rage.

So let’s be clear: Rage looks different on everyone. Rage looks different every day in every situation.

We are living in an actual nightmare right now. I am angry all the time. I am angry about racism. I am angry about Covid. I am angry that the leaders of our country are putting capitalism before BASIC HUMAN NEEDS. I am angry that Black men and women are considered less important than fucking drywall. I am angry that people are losing what it means to be compassionate. I am FUCKING FURIOUS right now.

Believe me when I say that rioting and smashing some corporate elitist bullshit buildings doesn’t sound like such a bad plan to me (so don’t @ me if you think I just wish people would protest quietly and peacefully. The Black community has tried that, and it clearly didn’t work (You didn’t listen when Colin Kaepernick quietly took a knee. You didn’t listen when the NBA wore t-shirts printed with “I can’t breath.” You didn’t listen when they protested on the streets “peacefully.” So now some people are going to make noise. And for God’s sake, LISTEN. And if you’re only listening to one voice —particularly those of you who only hear the rhetoric of the likes of Candace Owens — you’re not listening. You’re looking for an echo chamber. That’s not listening.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried because the world feels so fucking hopeless. I am sunshine and rainbows as much as I can be, and I’ve found myself questioning life in ways I never thought I would question life. I’ve asked what’s the point? I’ve asked why are we even here? Are we just going to blow ourselves up? The answer is most likely “probably.”

But I push forward and try to smile through my rage because underneath my rage, there is hope.

We all have a part to play in this world. Let me be a beacon when I can be a beacon, so when the world is cloudy and gray, you can find your way. Welcome my light instead of shooting it down and telling me what you think I don’t see. If you’re out there fighting the good fight, know that I’m supporting you. Know that I’m fighting the fight the best way I can. Because I SEE you. You need love and light and joy.

For better or worse, this is the present we are living, and my only goal is to live a life that will make my nieces, nephews, and hypothetical children proud. To give them memories of joy and wonder. So that when they grow up, they have a guiding light to make us proud.

Racism in the United States is as real of a pandemic as Covid 19. There’s no easy cure and the long-term effects can be and are devastating. It can sneak into every system undetected until it’s ravaged whole communities. The biggest difference is that racism is a much older pandemic. We must do everything in our power to fight racism and REMOVE RACIST LEADERS FROM OUR GOVERNMENT.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Who Needs Big Brother When I’m Listening to Your Conversations?

I realize that I’m a total creeper. To be fair, you guys asked for more of these…so if you’re weirded out, you’ve only got yourself to blame. Except for the graphic. That was all me.

I'm always listening to conversations, and when I hear or see something noteworthy? I write it down.

My old company had a big ole corporate office that I almost never visited. I worked at a satellite office full of hipsters and people who didn’t seem to mind that I wore rainbow yoga pants to work. It was a comfortable place to be. In my last couple of months at the company, I was required to make my way to corporate on a weekly cadence. My teammates and I called it Mordor because a dark cloud seemed to loom over the long drive to the office.

One of the neat things about Mordor err…corporate was the miniature city within an office. When I realized I needed to buy tampons, I could just head to the convenience store inside the building. Which is exactly what I did on my last Mordor err…corporate day.

I walked into the shop, where a woman was sitting behind a register on the left side of the counter and a young man was standing behind the register on the right side. Another employee was walking back and forth through the store, and I made my way to the pharmacy aisle.

I grabbed a box of tampons, walked down the snack aisle, stared longingly at the box of Oreos that I opted not to purchase, and made my way to the cashier, a young gentleman in his late teens/early twenties. I thought to myself how far I’d come since my embarrassing first period, and how I didn’t give two shits that some dude had to pick up a box of tampons, look me in the eye, and ask if I needed anything else. If he did ask, I considered telling him to hold on a second, I needed some Midol – just for funsies, but he never gave me the chance. He scanned my tampons, and as I was punching in my phone number to the system, some other guy (my assumption is that he was the manager or supervisor) walked behind him.

This was the exchange that played out.

Cashier: K, I am not in the mood. I’m sick and don’t feel well.

Wait, what the fuck is going on? Where did that even come from? That guy never said anything.

Supervisor: I don’t give a shit.

Woah. Hostile much? Wait, these people are AT WORK. This is how they’re speaking to each other in front of customers. This is SO fucked up.

Cashier: Fuck this place.

Well, this is an interesting turn of events…I wonder if he’s going to…

The cashier reaches behind his neck, pulls off the lanyard he’s wearing, and drops his badge on the counter before I’ve had the chance to swipe my credit card.

Cashier: I quit. I’m done dealing with this bullshit. Have fun making deliveries today.

Did that seriously just happen?

Yep. Yes, it did. That guy just quit. While ringing up my tampons.

Me: Ummm…can someone complete my transaction?

The girl sitting down stood and moved toward the register I was at, and the previous cashier turned from the door before he left.

Cashier: A, I’m really sorry. I’m sick of this shit. I have to go.

That was fucking ridiculous.

The girl completed my transaction, and I went on my merry way. Furiously typing up the exchange in my “other people’s conversations” files, anxious to tell you about this insanely ridiculous story.

It seemed fitting that this happened on my last day at the central office, as I only had a few days left. I was glad I didn’t quit in anger like that guy, but it definitely added to the weirdness I felt about leaving.

Have you ever witnessed someone leave their job or have you quit in a rage? What is the craziest way in which you’ve left a job?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!