So It Wasn't The Batteries???

My temper continues to get the better of me.  A couple or few weeks ago, I was fuming because the Wild were crushed by The Bastard North Stars.  Couldn't help but think and ruminate and just stew in my anger.  Once I allow this red mist to descend upon my mind, it's very hard to get myself out of this anger spiral.

I was lying in bed thinking about it.  My thoughts in this state often turn into revenge fantasies whereby I am at the X and see some Dallasshole rooting for The Team That Was Stolen From Us v.2.0. and he starts to fight me and I kill him.  Like it usually happens, I kind of snap to from this fugue state and realize I should get my mind off something else.  I think I was going to grab something from the fridge to drink because I was thirsty, so I flung the blanket open so I could hop out.  I did not remember, however, that I had recently turned off the TV set and placed the remote control beside me on top of the blanket and not at the corner of the dresser where it would have been safe.

Since it was not safe, that poor remote control went flying -- Whooooomp! across my bedroom onto the wood floor.  It was still intact, but I couldn't change the channel or turn the volume up or down.  I took apart the whole thing the next day hoping that I could put back something that got loose from the hit.  But nothing seemed out of place and I still couldn't use the remote.  This reminds me of the time way, way back when I was watching the Vikings play The Tampa Bay Buccaneers when the Bucs were permanently shitty.  Or was it The Detroit Lions?  Anyway, the team the Vikes were playing were bad, but the Vikings this Year (and really most Years) were underachieving, and so in this Game they were struggling to take the lead late.  A pass was thrown to, I believe, Wide Receiver Anthony Carter, but it went through his hands and into the hands of the defender behind him for an Interception.  And I got so fucking angry that I threw the remote I had in my hand across my room.  It hit the floor and shattered into a dozen pieces.

So based on experience, I was sure that, once again, because of my temper and because I didn't put the remote where I should have, I have ruined another remote control.  So I bought another one through eBay.  Got it, took it out, exchanged the batteries in the old remote into the new one ... and it still didn't work.  Man, did I get suckered into buying a lemon remote control?

But then I stopped and thought.  This new (well, actually used) remote has to work.  So ... is it the batteries?  I grabbed two new AAs and put them into the remote control I bought -- and it worked.  And so I put those same new batteries into the remote that I flung across my bedroom -- and it worked, too!  So the remote wasn't broken, but the batteries just didn't work?!  I was able to use that remote up to, oh, 30 minutes before it got catapulted by my blanket, and that is precisely when the batteries decided to run out of juice???

I don't believe it, and I still don't fuckin' believe it.  Now I got a back-up remote I don't need (no way am I returning that to the person who sent it; I have some sense of pride and I can afford to waste eight bucks) and two batteries I'm still puzzled as to how it suddenly died on me at the exact same time I should have broken my remote control.  But hey, I don't have to get up to change the television any more like I used to when I was a kid, so maybe this will be the last thing I say about it.