Yesterday I was mad.
Not just mad. M-A-D, throat-constricting, head-pounding, pulse-racing, eye-watering, appetite-squelching, cannot-see-straight, get-out-of-my-way mad. I can’t remember the last time I was so mad.
Never mind the reason. I’m getting over it. Moving on. Not a big deal.
(Actually it is, but if I dwell on it too long, my pulse starts racing again, and I really don’t want to go there. That kind of mad is not such a pleasant sensation.)
And just to clarify, my husband had nothing to do with my being so mad. He’s thankful not to be on the receiving end of my wrath. This time.
So like I was saying, I was mad.
I was driving home…
…and I was so mad that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t talk myself down. I couldn’t pray myself out of it. I was seethingly and inescapably mad. Then, in one brief instant, I knew exactly what I needed.
I needed to go to the gym.
Now you know the level of madness I’m dealing with here. Anything that would cause me to crave an intense workout has got to be bad. Bordering insanity even. I hate exercise.
But that was all I could think about. Just twenty more minutes, and I can get on the elliptical. I was visualizing it. Just ten more minutes. Just five more minutes. I had a desperate need to change my clothes and go hammer out all of this venomous adrenaline pulsing through my body. Because it was killing me.
So I did. I cranked up some loud and angry music on my iPod and let the elliptical have it. At one point, I was going so fast and so hard that my chest was hurting.
A heart attack would not be helpful at this juncture.
So I moved on to the treadmill. More loud music. More pounding out the adrenaline. Lots of sweat. Sweet release.
Having sweated out all my evil intent and plans for nasty revenge and cutting off my nose to spite my face, and having gained a little perspective, I was ready to move on to the chill portion of our program.
So I went to the sauna and flipped over to some chill music. (Jeff Buckley. Broken Hallelujah. Most excellent. I love that song.)
Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
After sweating out the remainder of my frustration in the sauna, I headed home. My family was gone, so I had another two hours to cool down with a good book and more than one Ferrero Rocher chocolate balls.
Felt good. Really good.
So once again, all is right with the world.
At least until the next episode of mad. Have mercy.