the thing about yelling

This week, although short and relatively good...I 've yelled at two people. It's strange to me; I consider myself to be laid back. Some may argue that but I know I've come a long way from the red headed freakouts of my youth.

It takes an awful lot to fire me up now a days. Like, 9 months of badgering from a co-worker. Or, three weeks of dealing with new neighbors that pound on their walls until midnight.

What's odder still is how empty and unhappy I feel after yelling. When I was younger I could feel the energy expell from my body. I remember feeling impressed at my ability to act strong. Now, I'm ashamed that my words sometimes fail me at a respectful volume.

Respect, expectations...now I'm up at midnight pondering expectations. How to make mine and others clearer and more obtainable all because of my need to yell at the neighbor guy.

Mind you, my intentions in both cases were not to yell. Constructive comments were made at a slightly elevated volume. In my defense I refrained from drop kicking my co-worker's computer and I haven't slashed my neighbor's tires. The sad thing is that I thought about it, if not for a split second and then I felt sorry enough to confess online.