Anger... what a waste of time

I'm in the elevator needing to go to the top floor of the Mavs stadium where the press sits, then, I need to go all the way to the bottom floor where the press eats and meets with the coach and players.  I keep thinking, why do I have to wait for these folks that have nothing better to do than to get on the elevator and stop at all the floors in between..  Afterall, I got important things to do.  I mean, just one floor up?  Really?  I'm thinking, jump and grab the rail above you and do a chin up and get yourself up there without taking time from my elevator experience.

I'm driving to the game, I'm in a hurry because, of course, I left at the LAST possible moment.  There's a red Ford explorer taking two lanes.. tyring to decide whether he should park in the blue lot or proceed ahead.  I mean, it must have taken a good 20 seconds.

Then, there's the normal everyday things.  Hearing that person next to you chewing on gum, coughing, sneezing, itching, or whatever that sound was.  I'm thinking, I'm going to get sick... I just know it.  The sneeze is propelled into the air, enough of a mist that any car painter would covet that as a compressor he'd buy in a minute.  Then, the cough into the hand, put that same hand out to shake yours, grab the door handle, touch the shared stack of cups, the handle to the fridge.  I'll stay away from the bathroom so I don't make you too nervous.

And how's about people that assure you that they're going to do something that they never do?  Or those that swear they'll be on time just to be late one more time.  And, they seem insulted when you call them out for being late.  Go figure...

Getting on the highway going home, a car passes on the right.. on a shared lane!  I get angry... enough I said, enough is enough, so I speed up and pass that dirty rotten no good son of a gun.  I thought about .. how can I display my anger... No, not the universal flip off, I don't do that... I could sneeze at him but going 80 miles an hour (how far would I travel in an hour anyway?), it'd spray back in my face.  So, I think how's about a long stare where I smile as I pass him in my very fast 6 cylinder firebird.  I decided, that's what I'll do!  So, I pass and look to my left, ever so slowly passing inch by inch with my beady eyed eat crap smile. 

I then see him smile back at me.  I'm thinking, I know my hair is long, surely he doesn't think I'm a chic, I've got my gotee freshly died black so you can't miss it.  Then, I notice he's looking at me and further down the road to the right.  When I decide to finally break off my sarcastic smile and stare and realign my head to see what's in front of me, of course, on the right side of the road is a patrol car.

Anger is a waste of time.