Yesterday, I went there.
I was THAT person.
I lost it in Shoppers Drug Mart picking up a prescription and the pharmacy-assistant-type-person was of no help whatsoever.
As I was telling my friend A. on the phone last night, the whole store stopped. She described a kind of 'third-person' type of tunnel vision. Yep. I had it. I could SEE it all unfolding and I didn't stop it. Instead, I ramped up. Right up. In front of my sister's kids. They were incredulous, and I broke one of my own hard rules--I set a good example for them. Period. No drinking and driving. No random situations of danger. No. No.
And yesterday...well, the day started off innocuously enough, after a really good, vibrant work week.
I woke up in the good mood. That in itself should have set something off in me, a warning of sorts (I hate mornings. Hate them. All the time). But I got up, out of bed, happy at nothing.
Met my sister and her kids and went to my niece's art class. Things didn't go well there, either, with me getting into it with the British/Australian TA, whatever the accent was, I couldn't tell.
But suffice to say, it didn't go well.
We all went to lunch. Lunch took a longgg time. I didn't want to be there.
I took the kids back to my place to paint in my kitchen, on large sheets of paper. That didn't go too well either (paint water, all over the floor. Yes, I cleaned it up, with minimal fuss, but I was Done with Painting by then).
To the park. Bone-chilling cold. Reading a disturbing book on my Kindle ("We Need to Talk About Kevin". I can't say my friend M. didn't warn me).
Trooping off to church. The kids in an unsettled mood, mirroring me. The glare of the woman in the row in front of me (me, in my head, un-Christian-like to the bone: Look, LADY, I ALWAYS sit here). Me, holding it in for pretty well the only time that day, snapping internally, packing up everything into a bag, and announcing to the kids "We're leaving!" and stomping out of the church, all eyes on me once again (dear Lord), the security guard holding the door open for me as I storm toward it with THAT look on my face, muttering to him on the way out "It's been THAT kind of day".
Me, crying on the phone to my husband.
Me, hanging up on my mom.
Me, being me, having a bad day, and then getting over it.
Sorry about that.
About the things I did and failed to do, as the catcheism goes.
A big F for yesterday.