I need smackerels!
Blew it. Really, really blew it! Not intentionally, but nonetheless, triggered my body’s chemistry set in the direction of mayhem.
Whoa, mayhem?
‘Tis true. Here’s my tale. A purchased Amazon video, one of my favorites and such an incredible spirit picker-upper, made a radical metamorphosis online. The joyous, funny, and heartwarming “Hairspray” (2007) morphed into a violent thriller, of which I’d never heard, “Fracture.” (Where’s my Hairspray video?)
Morphed?
The description for “Hairspray” remained, but clicking open the video and, wowie zowie, it became a very tense “Fracture.” (I need Hairspray! Please come back!)
So, yes, I emailed Amazon. I received a friendly reply telling me to click on the enclosed link for a connection to their digital services. The link did not work.
This persistent Hairspray devotee, in search of her warm and cuddly video, called the Amazon main customer service number. In short, the customer rep to whom I spoke really didn’t know how to handle this puzzling issue, revisiting the same questions over, and over, and over. And over….grrrr.
I pride myself on modeling civility as a value. After 25 minutes, my pride and civility just tumbled right over a cliff into….snarly. Oh wow, big-time snarly. You know that state where unwelcome words pop out of your mouth, but you can’t stop them? Yep, ‘twas me. Finally, some remnant of my humanity kicked in and I ended the conversation, feeling terrible, mind you.
OMG, just realized how hungry I was. Ravenous. I mean, ravenous! I’d gone over my civility cliff as a result of HANGRY. Bad tempered and irritable because of hunger (thy name is Jan.) I know better. I do, but I-really-wanted-my-Hairspray-back and was not paying attention to hunger pangs.
I ate lunch. It was even healthy. As another longtime fave of mine, Winnie the Pooh would intone, “It was time for smackerels.” Out of respect for Pooh, I ingested quite a few smackerels. HANGRY went poof. Breathing more slowly, feeling full, and embarrassed as hell. I wish I knew how to reach the customer rep and apologize, but I didn’t.
I accidentally triggered my body‘s chemistry set to a boiling-over point. With benefit of a smackerel-filled stomach, I might have been able to maintain some level of civility, leaving snarling in the dust.
Reminder to self. Do I want snarling included in a possible future obituary? No way. In that case, follow Winnie the Pooh’s advice and pay attention to your need for smackerels, as needed.