I would say a good ten times a day I resist the urge to beat someone to death with my desk tray.
The irony is, I don't consider myself a violent person. I don't fight a lot, I'm an incredibly friendly drunk, I'm respectful of people's boundaries, I'm not aggressive to strangers.
But fuck if I'm not a serious rage monster.
I'm about as physically imposing as an over ripe banana but I'm a short tempered bitch that will verbally castrate a motherfucker at the drop of a hat.
I'm actually not all that proud. It has its uses, sure, but it can be genuinely tiresome when you spend your working days chewing your tongue to silence.
As I write this, I'm ready to stuff a desk tidy through the larynx of the colleague sitting closest to me for any one of three separate reasons I've been smoldering on.
What grinds my gears? Everything grinds my gears.
This rage I cannot let go.
@rambo @missy
