As I sat stewing this morning over the fact that a number of my monthly freelance writing checks are late (and not 3-4 days late…3-4 days late in freelance land is early), no less than three people offered sh!tty advice and encouragement of the “Chin up, you are lucky to have work in the first place these days” variety. Yes, I am so lucky that I will spend the day working knowing that I am owed for work I did months ago. Whoop. Whoop.
What bothered me most (aside from the burning hole in my pockets, obvs) is that constant need for people to interrup other folks’ upset. Sometimes, you NEED to be pissed. You need to be annoyed, angry, sad or whatever unpleasant emotion has gotten you in its clutches at the moment. There is no shame in malcontent when there is a good reason for it and there is no humanity to be found in constantly forcing yourself to be cheerful, upbeat or happy because those are “good” feelings.
I could see if I was on complaint mode 24-7, but I’m not. I understand the field I chose and while it disgusts me to know that people really don’t seem to think it matters if writers eat or not, I don’t let it get me fired up every time there’s a delay. Thus, I don’t think it’s quite fair for anyone to suggest that I deny myself the bitter bill that is righteous indignation
Don’t get me wrong: you shouldn’t be content waking up angry every day or failing to see the goodness in anything at anytime, anywhere. If the only thoughts and feelings you have are painful, then you should seek to change your circumstances and perhaps seek some assistance in reordering your situation. But getting upset from time to time is just a part of life. If you don’t deal with it in the moment or as soon as possible and choose to just sweep it under the rug or hide it, you can make yourself sick. You can become a ticking time bomb, just letting all that frustration build up and it will likely explode at the worst possible moment. Like when someone gets your order wrong at a bagel shop and you saved calories and carbs for two days just so you could have that butter, bready goodness and HOW DARE HE not understand what a ‘scooped out’ bagel is if he’s gonna work in New York City, because if I have ALL the carbs in a bagel I WILL DIE ON THE SPOT!!!
Um, yeah. Don’t let that happen to you.
In short, I would like to keep all the dime store motivational slogans and “Cheer up” speeches at least 100 yards from me at all times and I will gladly give the world my arse to kiss before I become some sort of robot who only shows emotions that make other people comfortable. Today, I am mad. Tonight, I will likely be happier and tomorrow, I may be singing in the street like Big Bird and ‘nem. That, my friends, is called being a human being.
Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to look out the window a la Mary on 227 and hope the mail lady was kind enough to bring me my motherf*cking money.