Sometimes my mouth, temper, and sarcasm get the best of me and spout off before I take the time to properly consider the consequences. Other times I consider and consider, then finally allow myself the indulgence of going into “bitch” mode only to feel guilty about it later. Funny thing is, my first instinct is usually the correct one.
Despite the fact that my actions in both cases end up being identical in the end, I usually do not feel guilty about the vocal volcano when it happens without first thinking it through. It’s not that I forgive my self for it because it just slipped out, but because I’m usually justified when I go with my gut. I’m not saying this has always been the case, I could be a mean little bitch when I was in my 20’s and younger, but since hitting 30 I feel I am nicer overall and when that bitch-ometer kicks into gear it most likely means someone is being an asshole (other than me).
The opposite isn’t necessarily the case when I take time to think about it, but it does often prove to be that too much thought muddies the waters for me. I rely on instinct to guide me through life much more than I do contemplation. Don’t get me wrong, I contemplate everything until the minutia of it is exasperating, I just do so after the fact (see Day 313). No, my thing is that if something gets me irate enough to give a verbal smackdown, nine times out of ten it will turn out to be legitimately warranted, but if I wait and agonize over if a stronger reaction is required it confuses me and makes me doubt myself.
A recent example is the commisioner of last year’s fantasy football league. To protect his identity we’ll call him Stev and make him a part of owner of a bar (NOT located across the street from me) called Pikaso’s. The league ended in December 2009 with me winning first place and 980 . . . um, points because gambling is illegal and I would never break the law –- except for speeding which is totally legit b/c I am an excellent driver when I go 90 and above. Anyway, I contacted Stev two or three times personally about the “points” he owes me and was told that a couple of guys still owe him from the buy-in (four months ago). I also stopped into Pikaso’s twice to ask his business partner who was also in the league and got the same answer, although the second time he also let it slip the two were headed to Vegas the next day. Finally, this last weekend I sent an slightly hostile email demanding my money and accusing him of spending it and not honoring his commitment. Then I felt super, super guilty.
The guy emailed back the next day saying he had it and has for a long time and he’ll meet me anytime to drop it off, etc. So now I feel like a bitch. I really like this guy, he’s great and is raising two kids on his own after his wife unexpectedly died a year ago. I don’t want to be on bad terms with him, why couldn’t I just be more patient and waited for him to contact me, surely he was just about to. Except here’s the thing, I said I could meet any time, for him to name the day and time and I’d be there and I was sorry for getting so bitchy and you know what I heard back? NOTHING! The douchebag never responded and I still don’t have my damn 980 “points”!
The moral to the story is that if I had just been a bitch four months ago when he blew me off it would have been clean and tidy and while the friendship might be over I also would feel more and more justified in being an asshole because he’s never coughed up what he owes me. Now, however, I’ve wasted four months worrying over hurting his feelings or the friendship, then I finally take a hard stance, immediately feel regret after his note, and then none of it matters anyway. I felt guilty and awkward about hurting our friendship for months when this jerkstore doesn’t feel the need to fulfill his commitments. Why do I feel bad for being a bitch when he’s the one being a dick? Instinctual bitchiness is never this messy. Trying to be nice and taking the time to think before I speak (or email) has not accomplished a damn thing except that now I feel guilty about my bitchiness, which was clearly justified in the first place! Being nice sucks.
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