“Anger is short-lived madness.” ~Horace
Well fuck me…it’s mighty difficult to write anything while upset or depressed or feeling like someone has just stomped all over your stomach, ripped your insides out and then tossed them against the wall. You can thank me for that lovely visual later.
That’s how I’m feeling right now. So crappy that yesterday during free cone day I went twice, we’re talking rough people. Getting into it will only make it worse. The hardest thing is that when I was younger and someone didn’t like me, naivety took over and I figured I could win that person back by begging and or doling out dollars if she (it was usually a female) needed one during lunch. I thought I was being nice and in hindsight – like by the next year – I realized that I had the words “Use me” written on my forehead in bold. At 22, my expectations of people and how I react to how others treat me has gotten fairly better, though I suppose I’m still somewhat naïve. I am an adult and I associate with adults. That said, I expect for other adults to treat me with the same amount of respect with which I treat them. Period. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, but at least give me some sor t of idea as to why.
Now I’m regretting bringing this up. The more I think about the current predicament, the more hurt, upset and angrier I get. I didn’t expect to be treated this way and now that it’s come to this, where I’m hurt and the offender probably could give two shits, I don’t know what to do with myself.
For now I will sit here and fume and try to figure out what exactly I did wrong because right now I have no fucking clue. No explanation, no nothing. It’s like it is what it is and I should just accept it and move on. That’ll teach me about my expectations of people. But no one expects a fucking adult to behave in the same manner as a 7th grader.
Then again, this might just be a case of Pot. Kettle. Black. Who the hell knows…actually I do know one thing, I’m upset and I’ve been to Ben & Jerry’s three times in 24 hours. Not. Good.