utter frustration

So I’m sitting here at work and I’m utterly frustrated. Do you know the kind of frustration when you either want to pull out tufts of hair or just run away and cry? Yeah, it’s that kind of frustration. I really don’t enjoy being looked down on because I’m young or because I might do something slightly different than everyone else – that just irks me. Today I was even given a lecture by someone at work about how I need to do things more like he does or how a former employee used to do it. Utterly frustrated and on the verge of tears I just agreed. To myself I’m thinking, “Excellent. I love to conform. I love it when you make me feel like an incompetent idiot. Could you please insult me a little more? That would be great!” Bahhhh… I just can’t stop being upset. I don’t want to rant and I don’t want to rage, but I’m typing this all out in order to release just a little bit of steam. Thankfully I’m going on a break in about 15 minutes and I’ll be able to just chill. It’s hard been cramped in a little tiny office when the person who took you outside for a lecture has been sitting 30 cm away from you for the last 45 minutes. Yes, yes, isn’t it a joy! However, I’m heeding the advice of some of my youth kids and I’ve been very good at curbing my tongue. I don’t want to slander anyone, that’s not the point of my rant, I just need to get it all out so that I have room for happier, more optimistic things.

What can I think of that will take my mind off of all this poop? Rainbows, butterflies, coloured pens? Stars, maybe? I don’t know what it is that will do the trick. I wish that I could push my “easy button” (you know, the kind from Staples – I actually have an easy button in the office right beside me thanks to Trevor) and skip the rest of the day. Maybe I’ll grab a coffee from Tim Hortons – that usually does the trick. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll grab a large French vanilla from Tim Hortons and sit in my car with the song, “I am a friend of God” by Phillips, Craig and Dean, blasting on my stereo. The song is so absolutely ridiculous (as are the actions that I’ve made up to accompany it) that I don’t think that it will be possible to remain in such a foul mood (well at least for the 30 minutes that I’ll be on my break). I can only pray that I’ll remain more positive for the remainder of the night. After all, I have a 3 hour class to teach, and Mr. Poop will be right across the gym watching my every move. Oh well…

P.S. Gym went fairly well once I explained to my children about the stinkin wonderful lecture that I had been given. It definitely helped that after I finished coaching I stepped out the door and into an suv with Rach and Kiki. They came to take me away to a movie - Pride &
Prejudice - somewhere in the bowels of Surrey. This new interpretation wasn't so bad. I do realize now that I will always and forever have a crush on Mr. Darcy. If you please, I'd like a Mr.Darcy of my own.