First, read this blog post by the genius at Hyperbole and a Half so you can understand what I mean when I say hate spiral.
Wednesday was not my day, to say the least. I’m not whining in the sense of “oh, my life, why must you be so difficult,” and I generally try to look on the bright side of things. But being a lady, sometimes there is a hormonal shift in your body that amplifies your rages and makes small things grate on your nerves especially harder. The first thing to set my day off to a horrible start was waking up. The lateness to which I got up was astounding. The train I usually take leaves at 7:42 in the morning and I generally like to be on the platform at 7:40, and I only have to leave my house at 7:37 to do so (I’m very conveniently located). If I need a little extra time in the morning, I can take the later train that comes at 8:09.
I woke up that morning at 7:54. Stupidly just slept right through my alarm, my boyfriend was just gone (we often take the train together), and I was confused to say the least. I threw on any clothes I could find, splashed some water on my face, ate toothpaste for breakfast and ran to catch the train. I was annoyed only slightly. My train running late only made this anger fester as the cold wind blew in my horribly un-moisturized face. When I got to work and really got a look at myself, I realized in my haste, my shirt was a dress that I was wearing with jeans, I didn’t have any makeup to hide my sleepy eyes and I was wearing a Minnie Mouse scrunchie from Middle School. Looking good makes you feel good, right?
My job is awesome and I love it and it generally doesn’t add to my hate-spiral so that was good. My day at work was going well, until about 3:30 when I got the alert on my phone telling me that my regular train home was canceled. The snowpocalypse earlier this week was still messing up some things, and NJ Transit likes to mess up things on purpose to ruin people’s days. My manager (who is awesome and I like her a lot) takes the same train as me told me I should leave a few minutes early and catch the previous train out of the city because it will be worse taking the later train, so I obliged. I left work, got on the early train and was sitting there waiting to get going when I got the alert to my phone that my regular train was UN-CANCELED. Um, fuckers. Just rude.
I continue to distract myself from my shitbox of a commuter train by looking at my phone, checking twitter, reading blogs and seeing what’s happening on Ye Olde Face Booke and then it happened again. The thing that set me off and made me see red. My phone, which I had been singing its praises for a year now (Blackberry Tour) has had this lovely habit the past 2 or 3 weeks where it will just REBOOT itself while I am in the middle of doing something, and once it has rebooted, it will have no battery power and turn all radio connections off. It can have all the bars of battery that ever existed, but that act of rebooting itself apparently wears out its little Blackberry heart to the point of exhaustion where it will only blink its yellow light of shame and ennui at me.
SO MUCH ANGER INSIDE AT THIS POINT.
Since the trains have obviously been all jacked up, when I get to Newark NJ to switch to my train that brings me home, I am unsure if the train on my track is going to my stop. So I see a conductor there, I know he is a conductor because he is wearing a blue blazer and a special conductor’s hat that if you had seen him anywhere else out and about in the world you would look at him and think “that nice gentleman works for the railroad.” So I stop, and (not exaggerating my niceness here) and say “Excuse me sir, does this train stop at Nadine-Town?” And he says “Yes it does.” And I merrily say “Thank you!” and walk onto the train. I don’t sit down since I am the first stop. I put my headphones on, listen to some Keith and the Girl and then the train starts rolling.
Another conductor starts walking through to take people’s tickets. He looks at my ticket, frowns and says “Oh, this train doesn’t stop in Nadine-Town, this is express and it goes 4 stops past yours.” This people is when I lose it.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT DOESN’T STOP THERE? I ASKED A CONDUCTOR BEFORE I EVEN GOT ON THE TRAIN IF THIS ONE WAS GOING TO MY STOP AND HE SAID YES IT DOES, WHY WOULD I GET ON AN EXPRESS TRAIN IF IT WASN’T GOING TO MY STOP? THIS IS NOT FAIR. YOU ARE ALL WASTING MY TIME, I AM GOING TO WALK THROUGH ALL THESE TRAIN CARS AND FIND THAT GUY WHO TOLD ME WRONG AND GIVE HIM A FUCKING PIECE OF MY MIND, YOU ARE ALL RUINING MY DAY.
|FUCK NJ TRANSIT RIGHT IN THE ASS|
He just told me to get off at the next stop and get on the next train back to my town. Fucker.
Then I saw another conductor come in, and I wasn’t sure if it was the guy who told me wrong or not because it’s dim in the train station, this guy was black, and I didn’t want to wrongly accuse some conductor of ruining my life just because he was black and wearing a hat … then it would devolve into this whole “OH YOU THINK WE ALL LOOK ALIKE” thing and that was not somewhere I was prepared to go this day. Instead, I just glared at this guy with my bitch-face while he played with his iPhone. YOU ARE AT WORK, CUT THE SHIT AND GO LOOK AT TICKETS OR GIVE PEOPLE PROPER INFORMATION INSTEAD OF PLAYING WITH YOUR IPHONE, DOUCHBEE.
So 20 minutes later, I get off at the wrong stop, switch tracks, wait 15 minutes for the next train, turn around and come home. Before I got on the train in NY, I had a couple minutes so I stopped and got a slice of red velvet cake from the bakery right there. That was my reward when I got home for being PMSy and not cutting a bitch. I got to have a slice of cake when I got in. Literally, when I walked into my apartment, I gave myself a minute to just yell. I just stood there and yelled FUUUUUCK MOTHERFUCKEEEERRRRR FUUUCKING FUCK!!! The cat did not greet me after that.
Today we are having a party, so Wednesday was the only day this week that the boyfriend and I had to go to the store to buy things. So first we go to dinner before shopping. I look at the menu, pick the best thing for me, and then tell the waitress what I want. I am being nice to her, I swear to God I am always nice to the waiters and waitresses because I don’t want spit in my food. Or worse. She then tells me “OH, WE’RE OUT OF THAT.” That thing inside me snaps again and I just go “MOTHERFUCKER….” And I’m about to start on a tirade. But I stop myself, as my boyfriend starts to look at me wide-eyed, probably thinking “shit, Nadine really is going to cut a bitch today over chicken canelloni…” But then I say “I’m sorry. I need a moment to pick a different food. Michael, please order first while I think this over.” I pick a new food, tell the patient and scared waitress that I will have mushroom ravioli, and then just try to decompress from my fucking life. She comes back a minute later, I think she’s going to tell me “we are out of any food that you would ever want to eat” but instead she says “Oh, we do have the chicken canelloni so I put that order in for you.”
Just fucking whatever. Everything is fucking with me. I quit life.