From the moment she got out of bed, she was pissed - a force to be reckoned with and one that was best avoided at all cost. That fucking alarm clock. For starters, she had to make the coffee. She had to have the coffee. Can't handle being awake without my coffee. Don't fuck with me before I've had my coffee - a warning issued by her several times a day, several times a week. This in and of itself created a bigger window of time and opportunity for her to hang on to the pissed off and put upon moods she seemed to favor. She had to do more things than she got to do - and the having to do was bad, very bad. It burdened her with the responsibility of complaining about the things she had to do, and there were always too many of those. This kind of mindset was something she would simultaneously bitch about and defend constantly. She didn't want to like herself - she wanted others to do it, and if they didn't, they were bad. Oh it wasn't her - it was circumstances, it was people. Anything, everything, anyone and everyone was the root of her short fuse of a mood. Anything and anyone but her.
Having to do more things almost always meant that there would consequently be fewer things that she got to do. Around the house. At work. For work. She always had to do more than she felt she got to do. Having to do things gave her the right to bitch about all the things that she had to do. It was more than a little ironic that many of the things she had to do, were things that she chose to do. Also ironic was the fact that once the choice was made to do something, she became more put upon and angry - at the person who asked her if she could do it, at the very thing itself.
The new task, again, chosen by her voluntarily, came with a plethora of things that contributed to her negative mindset - time, incidental needs, budget, another log on the fire of a martyr's life. The thing about martyrs is that they're not very honest - if they were, you'd hear something like this:
Martyr: Great - I just told so-and-so I would do such-and-such for them and I don't have the: ability/time/money to do it.
Normal Person/Friend/Relative: Hmmm...then perhaps you shouldn't do it.
Martyr: No, I have to do it - otherwise I wouldn't be able to complain about doing it.
Never happens in a martyr's world. Theirs is a contradiction at every turn - being put upon by all sorts of little things that life throws at them, yet wanting them. They go through shit tons of emotional acrobatics to defend hanging on to such negative mindsets too. This is why it's fun to mess with them sometimes.
You got to fight, for your right to party like that alright. Fight for it she did - and at nearly every turn. On the way to Starbucks, woe be to anyone who crossed her path. Even a simple good morning was likely to be met with a response like, "yeah - it might be once I get my double shot of espresso." - only she put an "x" in the word espresso, and swore she was right. She wasn't, of course, but no one of a normal mindset was keen on challenging her and opening up such a negative can of worms.
Yes, it was really that bad. It was as if you could drop a hundred dollar bill at her feet and she'd look down, pick it up and then be pissed off that now, on top of everything else this day was bound to dump on her, now she had to make a special trip to the bank. Shit. God. Damn. It. Really? All the crap I need to get done today, and you put a hundred dollars in my hand that now I have to fucking go to the bank to deposit and I still haven't had my coffee yet? Holy crap, someone just walked in front of me into Starbucks while I bent down to pick up the hundred dollar bill....
How does one argue with someone so hellbent on cultivating such a negative mindset? Any solution is met with opposition - and for what? It was as if she believed that if she let every little or big thing get to her, particularly the things she had no control over, that the world would stay out of her way.
Life, if she would only listen to it, was calling bullshit. Stop. One minute - look around. Listen. Breathe, for just a second, and pay attention to how it feels to have lungs full of air. You get to breathe - more than you have to breathe. You're put upon? What a load of bullshit - seriously.
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