Yesterday I was angry. Someone who should know better wrote a letter to the editor advancing an insulting argument with a false information. A newspaper editor who should have known better published the letter without bothering to check the facts. I am still outraged today, but I am not still shaking with it.
Someone forwarded me the letter. I read it at the end of the school day. I checked the newspaper’s web site. It was not a hoax.
I didn’t know what to do with my frustration. I decided to eat a granola bar. At Weight Watchers, they told me that I’m an emotional eater. I knew that. I know eating doesn’t solve any problems, but it does make me feel better. The Weight Watchers leader suggested I take a walk instead. That helps, but it’s not immediate.
The granola bar was the hard crunchy kind that comes in a green wrapper. I pretend that I keep them in the office in case students using the school library need food after school, but really, I eat them–I eat them when I’ve skipped breakfast, I eat them when I miss lunch, I eat them when I’m working late. Apparently, I also eat them when I am ticked off.
I was pacing back and forth in the office munching rabidly on the granola bar. The crumbs were falling down my shirt and into my bra. I shook the bra to get the crumbs out with one hand and held the granola bar, which continued to drop crumbs, up to my mouth. This cycle continued for longer than it should have. It made me laugh. Laughing helped me continue with the rest of my day.
I need to respond to the letter. But I can’t do it shaking with rage. Or with granola in my bra.