I am an impossible person to be around for any significant period of time. My closest friends are the ones who can recognize a fit, tantrum, or just plain fizzle and and fart out of reality. I do this…a lot.
I go overboard with ideas. I overreact to situations. I take everything personally. And, I am always looking for the angle in which someone is trying to hurt me. (Side Note- these are all characteristics I loath in other people.)
It’s a miracle that anyone puts up with me- this includes Amanda, my children, and the rest of my family.
Anyways, I have been working with Pedro for the better part of fifteen years. We get along almost perfectly. I think it is because of the language barrier. I feel that there is much more truth in the reading of someone’s eyes, actions, and overall spirit than you can ever interpret in words. He does not fill me with hollow words or lengthy dialogue because his vocabulary is almost as limited to my understanding, as mine is to his. However, this works for us.
As I was entering the vehicle on Monday morning, I was having one of my 72-hour meltdowns. The psychotic breaks usually include my being overwhelmed, frustrated, angry, and overly dramatic. This is the case every time I have any more than one thing going on at a time (I can put a piece of mail in the box OR I can flip up the flag, but asking me to remember to do both is too much confusion).
For whatever reason, I like to go into these wordy, highly expressive, fits of verbal hodge podge in which Pedro pays little to no attention. I will lean my body across the cab of the truck while speaking louder as if the decibel level will help him understand my words more clearly. I use curse words all the more frequently because I know that he understands these at this point in our fifteen year relationship.
Monday, as I was reaching about eleven on the universal ten scale of pissedoffedness, I was finally about to get a response from my friend, Pedro. After my 90 second rant involving everything that was going wrong with my life, and all of the reasons that I am a victim in this world, Pedro slowly glances my direction, removes one of the headphones from his ear, gently smiles, and says….
“Enjoy your mad.”
As if it were a stay at a luxury resort, or a ride at the amusement park, or a massage at a spa. It was an indefinite period of time which I was free to do whatever I chose, and Pedro’s best advice was…
“Enjoy your mad.”
I hope you enjoy your day, or your breakfast, or your job, or your manicure, or your kids soccer game, or your workout, or your race, or your presentation. Whatever it is that you have on your schedule today, I hope that you enjoy it. And, if you choose to block out a portion of your time to be raging pissed, agitated or resentful….I hope that you enjoy your mad.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,