Happy Wife had a troubling day at work. Prescribed her a Sapphire martini with a splash of vermouth and two plump pimento-filled olives. Shaken. Served up. I delivered.
I could relate. Many years ago when I worked at a traditional job in the corporate world… oh some of the days I had. Occasionally I’d arrive home so pissed off I was visibly trembling, like a Quaking Aspen in a stiff Fall breeze. Mental commotion is one thing, but when it affects you physiologically like that you know you’ve let it go too far. Over time I learned to tame my reaction to these situations. Which is not to say that pissant managers who couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were printed on the sole didn’t continue to annoy me — and I them, to be fair. We did (continue to annoy each other). Only that over time I gained self-control over how I chose to react to the enmity. Reaching professional maturity is often coincident with the adoption of a Dilbertesque attitude. Day-to-day therapy comes in the form of amusing catch phrases meant to demean pissant managers, little quips you share with fellow employees of like mind. For example, say the pissant’s name is Dave, then one of my favorites was: ” Having Dave at work today is like having two good guys on vacation.” Haha.
Alas, it’s only a distant memory now; been over eight years since I last worked in a corporate setting, and years before that since I last experienced or cared about said discord.
What I remember for sure about those days coming home livid is that I never once felt like I had anything left to “throw” together an impromptu dinner like this:
Baked squash with a dollop of cottage cheese, spinach salad with honey vinaigrette dressing and crispy prosciutto, and pork in Calvados gravy.
No, I’m quite sure I would’ve never been capable of that.