When Anger Doesn’t Work – Part 1
When Anger Doesn’t Work: Part 1
by Jerry Waxman
I have a right to be fed up. This is the third time I’ve had to go back to the beginning to re-write this post. And that’s just the frosting on the gigantic cake of things going the wrong way.
Then again maybe being fed up isn’t a right, but a privilege? I don’t know, but considering the way things have been going, if I found out we have no right to be angry, that would piss me off.
A bit of calm before the storm.
This afternoon, the white cat with the carefully placed random black patches stared up at me while I hung clothes on the line from the living room window. And stared and stared and stared. Maybe some other cats had told this one, “Watch that human when you get a chance. He’ll make you proud to be a cat.” Or maybe the cat was just wondering how I got up here.
Now I don’t know if the cat has anything to do with everything else that happened today. I suspect it did.
Happy things do not a great day predict.
I’m having a hard time keeping the angry tone that I started with when I think of what happened at the synagogue. After the morning services, as I was folding my tallit, the man who was sitting in front of me handed me a plastic holder for both tallit and tefillin. Just like that. Never saw him before, never talked with him before, and just like that he hands me something that will come in handy.
What a great way for a day to start! Makes a guy hopeful. Makes the morning cheerful – and I managed to hold that mood all the way home. And then I opened the door to my apartment.
Nothing was missing……. That’s the problem. My roommate was still there. I believe I’ve already mentioned in an earlier post that I never wanted a roommate. This one just got unloaded on me.
Announcing: Project “770″ for 5770
There was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to startle me. It was just the fact of the roommate’s presence – along with his junk strewn all over the floor – that erased whatever smattering of elation I could feel – and sent me into a funk — a manifestation of days and weeks of pent-up frustration. I must’ve been subconsciously determined to let the anger out. It came out unpremeditatively a few times today. Unfortunately, releasing anger didn’t obtain any positive results.
To add to all and any stress, there has been a constant drone of construction happening all around. Banging, thumping, and an incessant drone of some machine. When I went outside, all dressed and ready to interview for jobs, I saw that a tractor was parked in the yard, and had a big shovel leveled at the window of a third story apartment.
Two men were sitting nearby, taking a break. I asked them in all sincerity if they were tearing down the building. “No,” they said. They were just destroying the top floor. I then told them that my friend was sleeping in the room, and would they mind destroying the first floor before he wakes up? They began laughing. Out of politeness, I laughed too and went to the nearby high school.
Something was very strange about the high school. There were no students to be seen. I asked Tzlava the security guard about this. He said the students were all inside in class. I’ve never seen a situation like this – ALL the students were in class? I still wonder what is wrong with them.
Tzlava told me the school director was also in class, and I should come back at 3:30. Considering I had gotten dressed up, with documents prepared, to come to the school in the early morning — I think I handled this pretty well. I walked away quietly, planning my next move.
End of Part One
