My computer might catch my comforter on fire.

It's been a bizarre day to say the least. I really don't even want to talk about it. I'd rather let the emotions seep through my anger-ridden fingertips and onto the screen of my laptop, because that's what feels good. I type at LEAST 60 WPM, and I can really get hammering on this thing. It's almost equivalent to nailing my fist full-throttle into a punching bag or squeezing the shit out of a stress ball. There's a sense of relief people probably wouldn't expect from a little extra force behind the hands as they come into contact with the keys. Of course, for this to be effective in the whole stress-relieving aspect, you have to be sufficiently teed-off. Irate, even. It's working for me. To be frank, I don't care how crazy that might sound to anyone.

I suppose I'm what some would consider crazy, but if you've been reading this blog or anything I've ever written via social media or the Internet, you didn't need my personal confession. Pretty self-evident, mm?

This morning didn't start out the greatest, was pretty mediocre throughout the work day, and quickly became miserable by late afternoon. The deaths of two great American icons threw the entire country off, sending waves of shock and disbelief throughout... everywhere? That kind of pushed the already horrid day deep into the negatives for me... and what's up with all the recent Hollywood deaths? Something to think about.

At least after waiting 3 hours to be helped at the hospital this afternoon, I was able to obtain a prescription. With doctors, it's always hate/love for me. I hate going, waiting, waiting, waiting, more waiting, being prodded, poked, questioned and stared at. But I do love being helped. I think in general a lot of people would agree.

It really wasn't too terrible until I had to change out of my clothes and be examined from head to toe by a male doctor, when I just-so-happened to be wearing see through underwear. It's like fate picked them out on purpose this morning, knowing of course, that I'd end up having to showcase them in front of a man I didn't know. Just one of those things you can't explain.

I was also surprised to see the same woman that took my Chai latte order earlier this afternoon at Jorgensen's enter the ER I was waiting in, with her baby. The weirdest part--every time I go into Jorgensen's, which is at least a few times a week (it's right across the street from the office I'm working in this summer), that woman is working and I always paid her special attention. I'd watch as she paced frantically around the happening coffee shop, running out orders to customers dining in the cafe lounge or dashing out back to grab refills for the straw dispenser. And she appeared to be in an early stage of pregnancy. Though that was just my personal observation, I would consider it every time I walked into the place and saw her. I'd wonder if she was pregnant, or if she already had children, and even what kind of person she was.

That might sound creepy, but for a reason I can't explain, I always paid specific attention to her in the store while I waited for my orders to be up. And seeing her walk in the ER, of course, at the time I happened to be there, of all places... with a baby that needed immediate attention... was just a very unpredictable sight. It caught me off guard. And then I started thinking about the movie Crash and my brain went in 50 different directions as I considered possibilities that ultimately just gave me a piercing headache, so I eventually brought myself to focus on the task at hand... getting in and out of my least favorite place to be kept waiting.

You know, I think the last couple paragraphs put my aggressive mood to rest. Having realized that, I remember some other things I was really pissed off about when I started this entry. Best to not bring them up at this point, especially since I had forgotten about them anyway. Okay, I'm done rambling for the night.