Oh, snap!

Whoopty-freaking-doo, I think I somehow managed to upset someone I spend most of my days with. No, not my boyf, one of my work colleagues. A bunch of us were trying to figure out what movie to go see tomorrow, there is non-work related personnel involved, we were hoping for a smaller crowd ( well, to be fair, for the most part, I was ) and we were having a hard time deciding, mostly because the selection is sparse and shit. Plus, someone else was on the phone with the people not connected to our merry bunch through work, and the poor girl was back-and-forth-ing between us like the last Mayan interpreter on a Mel Gibson film set. And around minute 2 of said conversation, another co-worker, who would not stop interrupting, really got loud, voicing his dislike for a particular film I suggested and which he has not seen.

Well, colour me an absolute viper, but I snapped back with the classic and ever dependable, though highly unimaginative,  “Nobody asked you.” And then proceeded to make the arrangements for our escapade. After we finished hammering out the details of who’s getting the tickets, who’s driving whom and most importantly, who’s throwing a not-so-surprise pyjama party afterwards, we decided we were going to invite some more people after all, and I took it upon me to invite said cubicle-mate. To which I got a very chill “No thanks, but since I wasn’t asked I think I’ll pass.” Well, boo-freaking-hoo, cry me a river, why don’t you?

Don’t get me wrong, he’s right. And I was rude. And he did use my angry line as sort of a comeback. And I do feel somewhat sorry by how it turned out. But not sorry enough to be upset over the fact that we are, after all, going to be a smaller and more intimate gathering. And I swear I’m not PMS-ing. That I know of. Flat jokes aside, though I may or may not have used it myself as an excuse for losing my temper, I’m starting to tire of blaming everything on menstruation. Yes, bleeding, pain and nausea does make one cranky, but (un)fortunately, last time I checked, it wasn’t accepted as viable defence in murder trials, so I guess that’s out. Instead, I’ll just go for the shock value of a heartfelt confession, aka, the truth: sometimes, I’m a real bitch. And some other times, that doesn’t bother me that much. Like today.

P.S. I’m sure karma will catch up with me, and I’m perfectly fine with it so doing. Something about accepting the consequences of one’s actions and all that…