I'm pissed off. Why, you ask? Today I've been trying to single out some event or thought that tipped me over. That's what my doctor asks me to do. Maybe it's being told by a co-worker that it was my responsibility to fix a photocopier. Maybe it's a culmination of a general malaise, a dissatisfaction with my job, my chronic singularity. Or maybe it's because I woke this morning after a sleep full of nightmares concluding in being eaten by a dinosaur, specifically a t-rex.

I went to the gym in the hope I could burn my frustration away. This year the gym moved the cardio room to a space half the size, workout machines packed side by side. I found no relief there and my anger grew. I felt like a battery hen. "So, this is temporary right?" Oh no.... "We've closed that room to reduce the rent. We were intending to grow membership but that didn't happen, so rather than raise your fees we decided to do this," the box jawed jock said smuggly as he leant back in his office chair. It all flashed back to high school, picked on, called fat and a faggot by guys like this and I asled to terminate my membership. "You say you're saving me money but the way I see it I'm paying the same and I'm getting less." It was the closest thing I could get to punching him in the face. I guess I was bound to do something irrational and impulsive. At least I didn't quit my job.