Misfeasance

Peeved.

Sharp teeth for biting
There should be a special circle in hell reserved for people who don't park their bike properly. You know, these are the ones who put their lock around the post and through the frame of their bike, but not through the front wheel. This means their bike is balanced precariously, and arranged just so, to inflict the most damage on the most tender (but not the most pink) bits of your anatomy when you park your bike, properly, next to their's.

And of course you know that there'll be rust on the metal bits what gouge skin off your leg, so you have to hurry and get tetanus shots and the like, not to mention expend more monies that owners of tiny shoeboxes with vistas have very little of on Vitamin E cream to avoid scarring. Perhaps, I can turn lemons into lemonade and eschew tattoos, and go for decorative body scars instead, thereby saving monies on tattoos and Vitamin E cream.



Ass-hats.

What would remain were I to lose control
I spent too many hours this week agonizing over words, words, and more words. It's annoying because what has to happen after you agonize over and choose the words, you have to cut, cut, cut. And if that's not bad enough, I walked into the office and saw the reams of red-tape that will have to accompany the agonized over and cut ruthlessly words. And the anger, frustration and irritation bubbled up in me. Much like when Mt. Vesuvius blew way back when and preserved the citizens of Pompeii. Would it were that I could do the same and preserve the administrators who push this red tape on me. However, perhaps I can turn lemons to lemonade once again...and no, all that comes to mind is dripping the juice of several lemons, well-squeezed, into the eyes of those that push red tape.

Purveyors of Misfeasance.

Seeing red easily and clearly
We're back to words again, but this time words that don't match the actions of the third party what says them. There are many third parties involved here, but all share the same trait. One thing is done, but then what's said is often contrary. The result of this inconsistency between verbiage and verb...well, let me list the ways in which my cytokines are activated as part of the stress response. Is it any wonder that as each day passes, my muscles become tighter and my spine shrinks as they're pulled together by said tightening muscles. I suppose I'll have to go have them unwound somehow - and then I'm going to feast on scads and scads of spicy tuna rolls - deep fried or otherwise.


Damn Feckwits! Feed me spicy tuna rolls!

Anger
Frustration
Irritation
Incomprehension
Anxiety
Helplessness
Fatal
Delusional hopes
Giving in, giving up
Terror
Worry
Railing (the verb, not the noun)
Heavy sighs



See? Damned feckwits. Is it any wonder I sometimes just see red. No lemons this time, cranberries maybe, sour, unsweetened cranberries.