So you were chumped. So you’re angry as hell about it. (See yesterday’s post.) What GOOD thing did that anger make you do?
I’m not talking about creating a funeral pyre of all your cheater’s things and dancing around it. We’re not about revenge scenarios here. I’m talking about the kind of righteous anger that creates showdowns with household appliances and lawn equipment.
“YOU WILL NOT WIN STRING EDGER! For I am STRONGER!”
When your world has fallen apart, when you’ve faced greater humiliations than failing to understand string edgers, suddenly lesser hurdles are not so intimidating. Goddamn it, I WILL MASTER THE STRING EDGER! Anger can make you mighty.
Luziana made this point in an excellent comment yesterday:
The Summer that Cold Slab O’ Meat dawdled on paying for the dissolution whilst he played poor discarded me to a host of co workers, internet dates and pregnant Schmoopie who couldn’t decide whether she was really a lesbian or not, my daughter and I built a deck. By ourselves. A 45 year old lady and a ten year old girl. EVERY NAIL had his and The Sluterus’ face on it.
This spring we remodeled three rooms more in our house. The rage of being alone to have to move a disgusting old toilet off the pipe, and my savings gone that I could have used to pay a plumber drove me. When I set the new one properly and bolted it down, the roar I let out felt like fear breaking off my heart and being permanently banished. Yeah, I know. For a toilet.
Rage plumbing. Is there anything mightier?
As I’ve told the story here many times, when I left a cheater I took up welding. (That picture is CL circa 2008.) Not for any practical purpose, like pipefitting, just because I heard about a course being offered and I thought WTF, why not? Welding is essentially like playing with a glue gun that can kill you. In fact, once I didn’t ground it right and I shot a volt of current through the fleshy webbing between my thumb and index finger. Burned a perfect cauterized hole right through my hand. But the crazy thing is, when you’re in a world of heartbreak, burning a hole through your hand doesn’t really faze you. Bring it on MIG welder, I’ve suffered worse.
So what did productive anger make you do? Start the lawn mower alone? Take up public speaking? Run for office?
Tell me about it. And TGIF!