Speaking of anger, I also enjoy a good rant drenched in vitriol. I love that word: vitriol. It’s Latin: the merging of hatred and motor oil.
Step 7: humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
Actually, it’s definition is four words: harsh and bitter criticism. Or as I still sometimes call it, making fun of people. Other times, it turns up in my gossiping. Or in response to something that I see or hear. That about covers it, I think.
Here’s how desperate my need to spew anger can be: This morning, during my commute, I unloaded a solid five-minute rant on a guy I met once during an interviewing process I had more than two years ago. I didn’t get the job; not sure I really wanted it. However, there was a sales manager that sat across from me during the second interview that I hated from the word go. He wasn’t even doing the interviewing; he just sat in and made jokes about his college sports team beating the interviewer’s college sports team over the weekend.
Hadn’t thought about him in over two years. There was no reason to. He didn’t cost me the job, or even have a hand in the decision-making process. He was just some arrogant prick that liked to walk around acting like an arrogant prick. But yet there I was, alone in my commute, loudly explaining to this man (who’s name I can’t even remember) what a blankety-blank piece of pointlessness he was. And on and on. I ripped down his house, his car, his wife, his kids, his college, his everything. Then, I repeated the rant a couple of times until I smoothed it out and got it just right.
For all I know, he could be a widowed, fatherless heroin addict that sleeps in the back of his company car. But I gave him a huge mansion, a beautiful wife, a minimum of 3 kids (all boys, all bullies), and college frat brothers whose daddies’ gave him a cushy job.
There’s no length my alcoholism won’t go to in order to rock my serenity, apparently. Or, seen in a different light, look at how wound up in my own head I can get, out of the blue and relating to nothing. I need to depressurize on a much more scheduled basis. Sure, yelling to myself in the car does the trick without bringing others into my realm of harsh and bitter criticism. But it becomes a feeling that I’m all-too-ready to carry into the rest of my day.
Today: I pulled into the parking garage and took 10 minutes before stepping out. I turned off the radio, closed my eyes and breathed. I also chuckled at myself for my morning antics. My brain’s like a unwashed, old, blind three-legged dog that bites at everything near it. Who knows why Average Joe Salesman was on this morning’s docket.
Today, I learned: no hate is harmless, even if it’s sectioned off, away from everyone else.