Anger flavored Coffee

I was very angry today. At who and why doesn't matter. It was just anger. I cried for hours. That was a complete waste. When I ran out of tears, all I had was smeared make up and a headache. And I was still sooooo angry!!

My friend had come over to visit and comfort me during my crying jag and by now, completely sick of the histrionics, said, "Quit crying and let's eat."

Sure I would never eat again, because I'm nothing if not dramatic, "Okay. But I'm not hungry. I think I'll just starve myself to death and no one will care." Insert pitiful sigh here.

She rolled her eyes and off we went to raid the kitchen.

Now my friend is about as scrawny a girl as I have ever seen. Tiny little thing but eats like a 300 lb. linebacker. She can put away some serious snacks. "We should get high. After all it's 4/20. You'd at least eat then and it'd def chill you out." She was mumbling at me from inside the pantry.

I was leaning against the island and glanced over, "Don't be stupid. Your dad would kill you and me and anyone else he could reach. Besides the logistics of that are too hard to figure out tonight. Shut up." Insert profanity in appropriate places because when I'm angry, I also swear a lot.

My head was pounding, food was making me nauseous and I could feel myself wanting to cry again. But I knew she'd had just about all she could take. So I choked back the tears and looked around.

Now understand that I'm typically a non-violent person but I was still pretty angry with no clue what to do about it. Then it occurred to me. The only violent thing I'd ever done was throw a mug against the patio doors. I briefly re-lived that moment, remembering the rush. I longed to duplicate it, knowing that if I could, there was hope that the anger would dissipate. And there it was. Sitting on the counter. That innocent little mug. And it called to me in a thin little muggy but coffee laden voice ... "Hayyyyyyleeeeyyyyy". I picked up the mug and looked at it. It wasn't one of my treasured Starbuck's mugs and was half full of cold coffee. Perfect.

My friend looked up from the bag of Dorito's, and reading my mind she giggled, "Do it."

"I might," I grinned .. for the first time all day.

"You should. You'll feel better."

"Maybe." I was still grinning and it actually felt good.

The thought of chucking that mug was making my adrenaline pump. I was having fantasies of being a super hero. Someone like Herculean Hayley with the strength of a hundred really strong Texan dudes .. or something. Remember, I'd been crying and my brain was fuzzy. The events leading up to my current emotional state kept flashing in my fuzzy Herculean brain all the while the mug continued it's call ... "Hayyyyyyleeeeeeyyyyyyy". Afraid of pushing my luck with the patio doors, I quickly scoped out the kitchen for the largest area of flat wall surface I could find. After all, if I was going to do this, I wanted it to be perfect.

My friend had hiked her skinny little butt up on the counter and was cheering me on "Go for it, Hails. It's either that or eat this whole bag of Dorito's, get fat and the dudes will no longer matter because no one will ever look at you again."

"Do it. Do it. Do it." she chanted.

"Don't make me laugh. I'll lose my mad", I said.

I checked the weight of the mug in my hand. I looked at that beautifully painted ecru wall. And then with all the strength I could muster, I hurled that mug against that wall. Coffee splattered everywhere and shards of ceramic clattered to the ground. It was, by far, the most beautifully artistic thing I'd done in weeks.

My friend sat there with her mouth full of Dorito's laughing.

We grabbed our purses, the Dorito's, 3 apples and an orange and left the house.

The anger was gone.