Going Soft

The unthinkable has happened.

I ahve passed through anger at work.

I'm no longer upset.

All day, it's been one stupid thing after another. Questions that I can't even understand, as it turns out not because they are so complicated and confusing but because they are so basic I am unable to recognize them as questions.
They should be statements, confirmations of fact, you know?
But instead of cursing at the phone when it rings and flipping off the caller while I am talking, I have taken everything gently and in stride.
Iím having an identity crisis because any number of calls or emails today should easily have sent me over the edge and resulted in a series of profane mutterings that would rival any longshoreman or trucker or anyone. I can out-swear anyone, I guarantee it.

I have found a loophole to fix a board member's MAJOR error. An error, by the way, that I was a part of. To be fair, it was an accident. But some people want it fixed yesterday and, clever, clever monkey that I am, might be able to do just that.
But it was not easy.
And through all the work I did on it today, I didn't shout or lay my head dramatically on my desk one time while I was talking it out on the phone.
Not once.

I have left numerous messages and sent a few emails to a party who is in Big Trouble, Mister. They never call me back and they need to because now the client is sniffing around.
Not only that but I caught them in a lie today and I mean, red-handed, BUSTED, caught them.
Did I turn my usual shade of violet and explode?
I closed the door in my bosses' office, explained the problem and took the necessary next step that she advised.
Who am I without a sarcastic melt-down on this one?

I didnít even freak out when I found out that all my network stuff was gone goose and some software and that I was pretty much going to be forced to make calls and talk to an evil, evil, evil shouting attorney in Minnesota who could not accept that the story is as simple as it really is. I did have to suppress the urge to tell her to go fist herself.
Thank god.
A twinge of the real Sarah.

But only a twinge.
Did I have too much fun with Matthew and Namoli last night?
Is this what happens when not one person treats me like an idiot for an entire weekend? Except for the 20 or 30 minutes last night when I actually could not count correctly while playing a frustrating card game called ďPhase 10Ē? Have you heard of it? It might have sucked the life out of me. Itís for KIDS but itís HARD. Are kids that much smarted now? Seriously? This game Ė itís like Uno and Gin Runny combined and thereís this plan to pick up where we left off last night when (hopefully) everyone makes it to Portland in July. Itís that freaking hard.

Is the plan to redirect my extra energy into a contact sport working? Thatís another possibility. I am working out like five days a week and toward the goal of being able to accommodate the occasional body slam without falling off of my skates.

I can't explain why I haven't used the eff word to describe a client, not one time, all day. This surprises nobody more than it does me.

If I am going soft, I kind of hope it lasts. This feeling of being able but removed is kind of pleasant, almost like work is as fun as it was a few years ago, when I didn't have any real responsibilities and came here mostly to socialize.

arizonasarah at 2:05 p.m.

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