Rage. 2/1/2021

I honestly can't remember the last six hours. My rage boiled and filled my skull with hot lava as my blood pressure rose and nearly imploded my brain. It was terrible... horrible.

I dislike being disrespected, ignored, or passed over for less than. I am greater than, undoubtedly, as I worked my ass off for a year and some change. As I thought I was too old for this, steam escaped from my ears. I huffed and puffed down the aisle, daring anyone to glance my way. Some did. 

This all came about from a promotion. A simple promotion at a primary bitch job that has passed me over. I feel so dirty and grimy and oily and, and, and...fucking angry. 

I'm better than this; I know it. Better than them, better than they deserve. Or maybe I'm not. I ended up here for a reason, knowing that is possibly the source of my anger. I must be aware of it, at least on a subconscious level. I'm here because I've failed, and it's my permanent hell.

Better to succeed in heaven than to fail in hell. Or something.

Don't make me feel less than. I'll hate you for it.