(My previous blog I talked about how I was writing this and because of a few buttons I pushed I erased all of it. I still don't know how the fuck I did that; I should figure that out. But here's my attempt to recreate that. Unfortunately I remember little of what I wrote, and what I'm typing instead I'm not enthused about.)
Not anymore.
Maybe I should have known something was wrong the night before, when I took off all of my clothes and hopped into bed and sneezed. I went to bed naked because Father apparently believed the mostly cloudy day was too cool, so he turned on the heat. Turning on the heat brings the air outside, possibly containing pollen overnight and probably capturing pollen that had burst at dawn, into the house to heat the air inside.
I was OK when I woke up, but I took out a tissue and put it on the passenger's seat on my way to work. Felt the sniffles, but that was no big deal. But then I got to work and the fucking allergies blindsided me: The sinus buildup, like the top of my nose was going to blow; the drips of snot leaking out of my nose if I tipped my head down; the incessant blowing of my nose every five -- no, two -- minutes; and what pisses me off most of all, and probably pissed off all my fellow graders, the constant need to get up and get tissues from the room's tissue box. Seriously, of the 100 sheets in the box, I used 80 of them Friday. I used it so much that I emptied the fucking thing and had to ask someone for a replacement. How embarrassing.
I don't know what happened, but the allergy attack I went through Friday was the worst all season, all of last season, and probably all of the season before. To prevent a repeat of that, Saturday morning, after I woke up around 7 after giving up trying to see the Bruins-Penguins playoff hockey game online because our Internet was fucking up around 9 o'clock, I went down to Father's computer room, opened his drawer, found his old bottle of Nasonex and took several hits up my nose. I was prescribed this a couple years ago, and to this day it's the only temporary allergy medication that completely got rid of all my symptoms. I could totally get addicted to it. I didn't use it this morning because today has been a wash-out. But I hope to remember to snort some before the beginning of the day tomorrow. I cannot have a repeat of what happened Friday, for my sake and the sake of the people who had to deal with me.
---
I should say this. In the middle of this really bad day I initiated a really weird incident. It's partly because of the allergies that overtook me, but it's also partly because I think a guy was being a douche.
After another allergy attack early in the afternoon, I got up and left the room, just to take a break. Went to the break room to read papers that weren't there when I dropped by in the morning and still weren't there. So I thought that maybe I should wash my hands and face; that might wash the allergies off of me.
But as I was turning towards where the bathroom is, I see another guy from the other end of the hallway turn just before me. I was kind of bummed that I wouldn't be able to piss by myself, alone in my thoughts, but hey, there are hundreds of people working here now, it was bound to happen.
What I did not expect was the guy not holding the door open for me as I was coming in behind him. How rude of this guy! He broke the unspoken but obvious niceness code all people, or at least all Minnesotans, know, and most do. I wasn't asking for a doorman; I was expecting a hand out, even for a millisecond, to stop the door's momentum from closing. That way that gives me a chance to catch it before it slams in my face. Besides, that way I at least the stranger in front of me is looking out for my well-being. I mean, how hard could that be? Apparently this asshole can't even do that.
Let me say that if I wasn't suffering from allergies that day, I wouldn't be so agitated about it at that moment. I think I'd be a little agitated, but I would keep patient and understand that I have work I need to do. But I was suffering so badly that this "slamming the door on me" felt like an indignity that I needed to avenge for. How, I don't know, I just felt like he needed to understand my umbrage towards him.
Suddenly, several men entered the bathroom after us. It was like the The Truman Show, where everywhere Truman went people were sent to make sure he wasn't left alone. It was weird. Moreover, one of the guys that came in was another supervisor in my room -- and he started up a conversation with the asshole who wouldn't hold the door open for me. Shit, they know each other! That complicates my plan to show him I hate him.
After I washed my hands I went to get the towels. There is only one dispenser, so obviously with so many guys there they're going to all grab for it. Somehow, we all got done pissing and washing our hands so that there was a line to get the towels. That kind of threw me for a loop. The Asshole was taking so much time talking with the supervisor guy that he wound up right behind me.
Follow me here: I usually grab three towels at a time, dry them, then grab another three. Because hey, you can never dry your hands enough. After I grabbed the second set The Asshole grabbed his. I step aside because I'm being nice enough for him and the guys behind me to get to the towel dispenser. But for some fucking reason The Asshole just crowds above the trash can to wash his hands. That set me off, and all I could do to register my fury was to throw my crumpled-up wad of towels right by his head into the trash.
What I did next even I can't explain, but my hate for him was the source of my, uh, weird behavior. Although The Asshole was behind me, one of the people who came in after us somehow wound up ahead of me in this conga line to the towels. He opened the door, but it was closing by the time I threw those towels in the trash and turned towards it. Remember that I was dealing with allergies. I was kind of paranoid Friday about spreading allergies to the people around me. Even though I just washed my hands, I had thought it prudent that, if possible, I would take a towel to grasp every handle I open. That may be a little, um, anal, but I really don't need the conscience of a bunch of people getting sick when everybody remembers that I was sneezing and sniffling up a storm.
Now, remember that this is a line of people waiting to get to the towel dispenser and then leaving the bathroom. My next natural step was to leave, but the door is closed, and I don't have a towel. So I just ... froze. And then I, uh, stepped away and out of line. No, I still don't exactly know why I did that. But you can imagine the queue of people behind me just waiting for me to leave the bathroom and make some room in the bathroom, and just not doing it. They must be like, "What the fuck is his problem?" Well, the problem is the guy behind me and the guy who just left ahead of me both pissed me off because neither of them would hold the door open for me.
So I should have backed up my weird action by grabbing a towel to hold open the door. I could at least justify not moving my ass if I did that instead. But I lost my track of thought and felt the people there wanting me to leave the bathroom, so I, like, came back in the line ... behind The Asshole. And, once again, he threw the door open only far enough for his entitled ass to come through. So, with a gritted teeth and harrumph coming through my flared nostrils, I open the door not with my still-allergy-ridden hand but my foot. And I didn't just gently open it; I basically did a roundhouse kick to throw the fucking door open. I may have doubled down on my weird behavior in the eyes of the guys behind me. But while I couldn't justify weirdly backing away, I can say that I was really pissed off at The Asshole for not holding the door open for me a second time. Hell, there were a bunch of people behind me. If he didn't want to do it for me, at least do it for them.
I saw The Asshole get a drink of water from the fountain. I just walked in a huff and, after I turned the corner, I muttered under my breath, "Asshole." I didn't want to scream it, but I wanted to say it loud enough for someone to hear. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do, because one of those people who may have heard it is The Asshole's friend, the supervisor in the room I work in.
Epilogue: I think The Asshole, a skinny guy with grey hair and wearing high-waisted shorts, was walking behind me and couple other people in our room during afternoon break and rudely went around us even though there was a lot of traffic going both ways. One of the people I was stuck behind was the guy who was talking with The Asshole as both were peeing.
Oh, and the supervisor might have said some in appropriate things during work. There is one woman who keeps asking for help from him, and one time she and another woman both raised their hands. He and a fellow supervisor both rushed to both of them to answer their questions, but neither could decide which one to help. So this guy said, "Doesn't matter, they're both good-looking." And he continued to flirt with this one woman all day. Come to think of it, he's done this since the project began.
---
I should say this. In the middle of this really bad day I initiated a really weird incident. It's partly because of the allergies that overtook me, but it's also partly because I think a guy was being a douche.
After another allergy attack early in the afternoon, I got up and left the room, just to take a break. Went to the break room to read papers that weren't there when I dropped by in the morning and still weren't there. So I thought that maybe I should wash my hands and face; that might wash the allergies off of me.
But as I was turning towards where the bathroom is, I see another guy from the other end of the hallway turn just before me. I was kind of bummed that I wouldn't be able to piss by myself, alone in my thoughts, but hey, there are hundreds of people working here now, it was bound to happen.
What I did not expect was the guy not holding the door open for me as I was coming in behind him. How rude of this guy! He broke the unspoken but obvious niceness code all people, or at least all Minnesotans, know, and most do. I wasn't asking for a doorman; I was expecting a hand out, even for a millisecond, to stop the door's momentum from closing. That way that gives me a chance to catch it before it slams in my face. Besides, that way I at least the stranger in front of me is looking out for my well-being. I mean, how hard could that be? Apparently this asshole can't even do that.
Let me say that if I wasn't suffering from allergies that day, I wouldn't be so agitated about it at that moment. I think I'd be a little agitated, but I would keep patient and understand that I have work I need to do. But I was suffering so badly that this "slamming the door on me" felt like an indignity that I needed to avenge for. How, I don't know, I just felt like he needed to understand my umbrage towards him.
Suddenly, several men entered the bathroom after us. It was like the The Truman Show, where everywhere Truman went people were sent to make sure he wasn't left alone. It was weird. Moreover, one of the guys that came in was another supervisor in my room -- and he started up a conversation with the asshole who wouldn't hold the door open for me. Shit, they know each other! That complicates my plan to show him I hate him.
After I washed my hands I went to get the towels. There is only one dispenser, so obviously with so many guys there they're going to all grab for it. Somehow, we all got done pissing and washing our hands so that there was a line to get the towels. That kind of threw me for a loop. The Asshole was taking so much time talking with the supervisor guy that he wound up right behind me.
Follow me here: I usually grab three towels at a time, dry them, then grab another three. Because hey, you can never dry your hands enough. After I grabbed the second set The Asshole grabbed his. I step aside because I'm being nice enough for him and the guys behind me to get to the towel dispenser. But for some fucking reason The Asshole just crowds above the trash can to wash his hands. That set me off, and all I could do to register my fury was to throw my crumpled-up wad of towels right by his head into the trash.
What I did next even I can't explain, but my hate for him was the source of my, uh, weird behavior. Although The Asshole was behind me, one of the people who came in after us somehow wound up ahead of me in this conga line to the towels. He opened the door, but it was closing by the time I threw those towels in the trash and turned towards it. Remember that I was dealing with allergies. I was kind of paranoid Friday about spreading allergies to the people around me. Even though I just washed my hands, I had thought it prudent that, if possible, I would take a towel to grasp every handle I open. That may be a little, um, anal, but I really don't need the conscience of a bunch of people getting sick when everybody remembers that I was sneezing and sniffling up a storm.
Now, remember that this is a line of people waiting to get to the towel dispenser and then leaving the bathroom. My next natural step was to leave, but the door is closed, and I don't have a towel. So I just ... froze. And then I, uh, stepped away and out of line. No, I still don't exactly know why I did that. But you can imagine the queue of people behind me just waiting for me to leave the bathroom and make some room in the bathroom, and just not doing it. They must be like, "What the fuck is his problem?" Well, the problem is the guy behind me and the guy who just left ahead of me both pissed me off because neither of them would hold the door open for me.
So I should have backed up my weird action by grabbing a towel to hold open the door. I could at least justify not moving my ass if I did that instead. But I lost my track of thought and felt the people there wanting me to leave the bathroom, so I, like, came back in the line ... behind The Asshole. And, once again, he threw the door open only far enough for his entitled ass to come through. So, with a gritted teeth and harrumph coming through my flared nostrils, I open the door not with my still-allergy-ridden hand but my foot. And I didn't just gently open it; I basically did a roundhouse kick to throw the fucking door open. I may have doubled down on my weird behavior in the eyes of the guys behind me. But while I couldn't justify weirdly backing away, I can say that I was really pissed off at The Asshole for not holding the door open for me a second time. Hell, there were a bunch of people behind me. If he didn't want to do it for me, at least do it for them.
I saw The Asshole get a drink of water from the fountain. I just walked in a huff and, after I turned the corner, I muttered under my breath, "Asshole." I didn't want to scream it, but I wanted to say it loud enough for someone to hear. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do, because one of those people who may have heard it is The Asshole's friend, the supervisor in the room I work in.
Epilogue: I think The Asshole, a skinny guy with grey hair and wearing high-waisted shorts, was walking behind me and couple other people in our room during afternoon break and rudely went around us even though there was a lot of traffic going both ways. One of the people I was stuck behind was the guy who was talking with The Asshole as both were peeing.
Oh, and the supervisor might have said some in appropriate things during work. There is one woman who keeps asking for help from him, and one time she and another woman both raised their hands. He and a fellow supervisor both rushed to both of them to answer their questions, but neither could decide which one to help. So this guy said, "Doesn't matter, they're both good-looking." And he continued to flirt with this one woman all day. Come to think of it, he's done this since the project began.
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