I am a happy person – a glass half full kind of gal. I like being nice to people. I say hi to strangers. I don’t sweat the small things. I realize people make mistakes and that I do too (please don’t tell my husband), so I forgive and try to move past the blame game right to finding a solution. Life is too short to hold grudges.
But even I have my limit. And truly you don’t want to push me past it. Really you don’t. Which is part of the reason I try to always stay calm. My inner bitch, when released, is the product of both nature and nurture. I grew up with an angry Irish father. He’s actually now mellowed out to an unrecognizable lovable granddad. But those quick-tempered Irish genes are deeply embedded in my DNA. Add to that the fact that I grew up in Boston, which is a part of the country known for long winters, die-hard sports fans and its tough cookie population. Not only did I grow up in Boston but the same part of Boston that Bobby Brown and Mark Wahlberg (pre-pants dropping) came from, Dorchester. Where I learned, like those two knuckleheads, to never back down from a fight.
It’s taken pretty much all my forty-one years to train myself to be well-mannered and to go to anger as a last resort only. My kids probably push me close to the edge more frequently than the general public but as a mother of two small boys I feel the fact they are still alive is a testament to my good mothering. Maybe I’m setting the bar too low.
But on those rare occasions when the Kraken is released in full view of the general public it can be both highly effective and deeply confusing. Highly effective because unfortunately, some situation require a pit bull attitude to be resolved. But deeply confusing because while the sense of accomplishment gives me a feeling of elation, the shame of having lost my cookies and bullied another human being is deeply embarrassing. Like the time I showed up with a car full of children for my son’s eight birthday party at a local trampoline facility and was told none of them could jump because the old release forms they had on file were no longer valid. I’m pretty certain I sent the seventeen year old girl who delivered the news to me to years of intensive therapy but the good news is I got the manager to waive the forms and give me ten percent off of my bill.
Just this last week the Kraken showed up and the office which is a dicey proposition. Tech support bore the brunt of her wrath. In her/my defense it was in response to a nine month old problem that still has to be resolved – clear grounds for going to the dark side. Fortunately I lost it in front of an attorney I was having lunch with. Instead of horror he was deeply impressed and commented that I should have been a litigator. Unfortunately, my twenty five year old assistant who had conferenced me in with tech support while I was at said lunch was slightly horrified. I’m sure she made a mental note to not piss me off. Ever.
I don’t know that I’ll ever resolve the conflicted feelings I have about my inner bitch. Is it healthy to feel guilty for getting things done? Will I be a fully realized person only when I don’t have to use her to get what I want? Will I have to become a grandparent like my father before I let her go? Do I even want to let her go? For now I’ll settle for our uneasy truce – tech support and seventeen year old girls consider yourself warned!
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Aleks
October 2, 2015 at 4:10 pm (9 years ago)I totally agree with everything but one aspect of your post–the “pit bull attitude” that you mention. If by “pit bull attitude” you mean loving, spunky yet lazy, and fun, then I agree. Unfortunately, in your post, the description is meant to have a negative “aggressive, take charge” meaning. I am a mom to a toddler and a pit bull, and deal with the “you trust THAT dog around your kid? Won’t she maul his face off?” comments all the time about my lazy laid-back dog, while my friends who own hyper in-your-face Labs get nothing.