Fisty-cuff Near-Miss.

The past two weeks have been rather stressful. Staying back at work til late. Like 9 - 10 p.m late. Reporting more cases and realising how little I actually know. Freaking out about unfinished work, upcoming exams and the disgusting state of the house. My diet is abysmal, I'm getting flabby and tired and not sleeping well. Yeah, feeling like a million-dollars.

I'm pissed off. Pissed off over two things. The first is the garbage situation. There are people in this apartment complex dumping their rubbish into other people's bins. So there I was with a large bag to throw out, knowing that my bin would have ample space only to find it completely full. I wanted to kick and curse. Even now, just thinking about it, makes my blood boil. To top is off, I went to Macca's only to have a fucking bitch cut me off in the queue. I had held open the door for her. I was standing in the line! But she just casually went in front of me. This is the second time it's happened. It's like I don't exist, like no-one actually sees me. I was so tempted to say something but my rage was so strong, I was afraid to open my mouth because I might have just said something really bad to her. In front of her young son.

Sigh. Sometimes I just want to hit something. Or someone. Heh.

Passive aggression is certainly a trait of mine.