Growth

So, today, most of my thoughts were spent on getting people together to celebrate a friend's birthday, Greg a.k.a. Old Dirty Greg, he turned 28. Needless to say, I was not super productive at work today. I called his girlfriend to see what kind of cake he would want, the answer, chocolate peanut butter pie. I have never heard of such a concoction. I called Harris Teeter, Kroger, Food Lion, and Whole Foods fruitlessly. Calling Albemarle Baking Company led me to voice mail. Chandler's bakery makes the dessert, but does not stock them regularly - requiring a lead time of 3 days. I tracked down the beast at Hot Cakes. $18 for a small, 6 slice pie and $31 for a 12 slice. So, cake - check. Gift - turns out Greg really desired to own a movie called "Foot Fist Way" - easy enough, I ordered it online from Best Buy for in store pickup - check. Made a bunch of calls to get a venue - Tristan's house - check. Called friends to come - check. I left work at 6pm to pick everything up. Eventually, made it to Tristan's house around 9pm. All was excellent. The cake and ice cream delicious and Greg had a good time. I left before 10pm and got home around 10:10pm.

Passive Aggression:

I come home, and start washing the dishes and taking out the trash. We have a cleaning schedule - credit me - where one of us has to wash dishes and take out the trash for a week at a time. If you are ever at the house, there is a calendar on the fridge, for 2009, A = Alan, J= me, and V=Visa. Pots, pans, and collanders are to be cleaned by the user, with the rest to be cleaned by whoever has kitchen duty. I unload the dishwasher and load it back up again with all of the dirty dishes in the sink. I empty the trash. Alan and his girl are in the living room. His gf's dog on the floor. I need my flip flops to go outside. I see one and am unable to find the other. I proceed to go outside and take the trash outside, barefoot. I come back in and search again for the missing flip flop. Alan asks if I need assistance, I reply, I should be able to find a flip flop on my own. Found - hidden between the dog and the couch. With my newly completed pair of flip flops on my feet, I go to the kitchen to finish cleaning. I wash my pots and pans. I wash my silpat. Alan's asks, "is there anything wrong?" - I of course reply, no, I just want to finish my duties so I can go to bed. Dishes done, I proceed to wash the stove and some counter space. As I am scrubbing away, I begin to take inventory of what's around me. I bought a giant pack of cheap towels to use around the kitchen. I see a dirty pile of them on the counter. They do not wash them, and after I launder, they magically reappear, ready to be used. There is one coke zero left, lone, from what was once a 12 pack. They do not buy coke zero, but drink them. As I am scrubbing the stove, Alan asks again, if something is wrong, I tell him the same thing, I want to finish so I can go to bed.

The only difference between unjustified anger and justified anger is how long you hold on to it. I finish cleaning the kitchen, the stack of dirty towels still on the sink. Pots, pans, a baking sheet, and a collander, still dirty, adjacent to the towels. I have a right to be angry right?

Reality:

I am full of anger, and have been banging around the kitchen and frantically making a scene in the living room in front of Alan and his girl, picking up things and moving them around to find my magical flip flop. I do not address them or ask them how their days have gone.

Less than 30 minutes after leaving a gathering that I helped arrange, I am full of spite. Who am I?

The dish towels - I do wash them every week. Though mentioned in passing, I have not explicity said to Alan and Visa that they need to wash them, why would they, seeing as I do it.

The soda - there were probably less than 6 left that they could have consumed. In a house of roommates, unless explicitly stated, the rules of the jungle are that you can eat anything, but can't take the last of anything. This leads to drops of OJ and milk left in the fridge. Single sodas where cases once stood. And a quantity of one egg remaining, in what was once a sheet of 2 and a half dozen. When they ask for a soda, I never deny. Do I feel the anger because they hadn't asked me if they could drink the ones they did, if any at all?

The state of the kitchen - I am not a clean and tidy person. How can I expect them to judge me on my best intentions while I judge them on their actions - or inaction? It is my week to do the dishes and tidy the kitchen. While it may be true that the kitchen was spick and span, on the surfaces at least, after I was done. It is totally Visa's right to go downstairs and clutter the kitchen once more. Do I like it? No. But he is not doing it to piss me off, he's doing it, because he's hungry.

After my hissy fit, Alan and his girl went upstairs to watch a movie. I went to my room to eat the last whopper jr. of the night. I started watching How I Met Your Mother and ate the burger. The rage subsided. Then guilt moved in. After eating, I smoked a cigarette. During which, I came to the conclusion, that the perceived injustices against me did not justify my childish behavior tonight. A few short moments later, alone with my thoughts, I knew I had to apologize to Alan and his girl. I did. I went in with the intention of saying my part, what I had done wrong, and that it was wrong of me to act that way. It became drawn out. I was asked why I had felt agitated. I said. Careful not to attack, I tried to stick to principles. I will not repeat what was said, but there was no calculated anger on my part. No underlying motive to "win." I want to be part of the solution and stop discussing the problem. I supressed my urge to keep score and negate the opposing points.

Change:

For all of my fans and followers of this blog. (Could be fan and follower.) My natural inclination is to argue - no matter what. If I could have answered you honestly, just a couple of years ago, whether I would rather be right or happy...right would have been my desire, even if it meant misery for me.

My tolerance of the wrongs done to others by me has diminished to the point where it causes distress in my person to know that I have rooked someone else. Though, this doesn't make me perfect - it allows me to grow. To get better, to take action, to try, and be...a better person.

How did I, within 30 minutes of being part of a celebration, turn into such a wretched troll?

The more important question, is how, did I, get to the point where I apologize for things and take ownership of my shortcomings as a human being?

I am grateful. We all have faults, and I can attest, that I can not always see my faults. But when I do notice them, I do not let them own me. When I see the good in others, I am at peace with the world. When I see nothing but unmatched expectation, surely, there is some sort of internal turmoil within me.