Easy Going My Ass

There are times when things just blow up. Now, I don’t like chaos, and I don’t like the emotional drama bit. I like the even keel. I like it when we just go along, and we don’t make a big deal about every little bump in the road. Some have called me “easy going” because of my attitude, but I have to differ with their opinion. Why, you ask? Well, in my experience on this planet, there are times that I can’t let go of that bump in the road, depending how important I view that bump to be. When it’s a win or die bump, it grows to the size of a mountain and I start to resemble Mt. St. I tremble and rumble, a series of small gas releases signals the potential for a full blown eruption, which, if it occurs, spews hot gas and rock over a wide swath, killing everything in its path. It is at those times one might not ever think of the term, “easy going” in the same paragraph with my picture. Yesterday and this morning, Mt. St. Helens Ramstead (me) set a new record for the number of eruptions and the damage piled up until it almost smothered me. Luckily, Amy and Daphne had absolutely nothing to do with the bump in the road that caused the episode, and they took wise action in just standing back and observing me self implode. I misunderstood someone, and then they corrected me in public. My itty bitty feelings were crushed and I stormed off to my mental cave to do the man thing, pout. The tremors were felt for miles as the magma rose to the peak of my pointed little head (now resembling a cinder cone) and I roared out of the cave and onto the computer to destroy the object of my aggravation. I spouted, spewed, cursed, ranted, roared, slung every insult I know, called anyone not perceived as aligning with me in my anger a “cowardly sheep”. I turned 14 shades of red then purple in my gasping tantrum. How dare they trifle with me? How dare they cross me? I was so self righteous that I could have almost had my own cross and felt entitled. Amy choked back giggles for almost an hour as she watched me pound the keyboard with one desperate attack after another. No matter how vicious my attack, the counter attacks by my tormentors were superior. I was being brushed aside like bad apples at an apple squeezing. I was rejected, countered, and then reprimanded for my poor behavior. This, of course, only pissed me off more. I was now being diminished as well as being a hot head. A word of caution: all this was my own little reality in my own little head, or “Bobland”. In Bobland, I am always right, correct, and above reproach. No one seems to like Bobland except me. Now, someone had taken a hand grenade and thrown it into the center of Bobland making a damned mess of it. I was doing just fine at blowing up the world until Mr. Sanity dropped by with Mrs. Consequences. I stopped just long enough to listen to them too much. The damaged walls of Bobland crumbled to dust before my eyes. Then Mr. Regret came through with his ego busting bullshitdozer and leveled Bobland into a poppy field. But, that wasn’t the worst. No, the worst was Miss Apology came by and sat on me until I got my big boy pants on and did the right thing. It was painful, and I didn’t like it, but it was necessary and warranted (at least according to Mr. Regret and Miss Apology). Mr. Sanity approved, and Mrs. Consequences changed from holding an ax to hugging a bouquet of flowers. The sun even came up and a new day began. Then I just wanted to go off and puke because of the whole damned incident and that I’d probably never hear the end of it; or even worse, it would become one of the cute cocktail tales that people have for parties and such. *Barf* Well, I put everyone back in my head and started to write on my blog. Somehow, I think things will return to normal and I can again be viewed as being easy going…….someday.