Jangly
Sometimes -- and I've never figured out whether the primary cause is diet, allergies, stress, biorhythms, or voodoo -- I get jangly. Which sounds a lot like getting jiggy, but it isn't. My temper gets short, loud noises annoy me, and I feel like most of my nerve endings are exposed. Usually it lasts a few hours; sometimes the better part of a day.This was manageable when I lived alone. It was even manageable with just Kristi and the cats. When you add a six-year-old to the mix, it's torture. On jangly days, Emma seems little more than a loudspeaker wrapped in sandpaper. It irritates me greatly to be around her, and it irritates me even more to know that it's not her fault at all; it's me. She's just being six.
The morning was hell at work. Suddenly the stuff I'm primarily responsible for wasn't working for paying customers, and it appeared my fault. As it happened, it wasn't my fault at all -- but due to some unfortunate timing, I couldn't even view my application logs to prove it. For a couple of frightening hours I half-believed that I was responsible for a significant service outage. And given that I've already been pegged as being responsible for a couple of hundred thousand dollars of unnecessary charges against the company this year (there's some truth to that, though the story is more complicated), my stress level was
By the time I was able to clear my good name, the day was pretty much blown. I blogged a bit, Worthed a lot, and tried to get myself back in one piece for the evening, but I didn't quite make it. Emma rubbed me every wrong way there is tonight, and I'm afraid it showed.
Some days I don't feel like a very good father.
posted by MeanMrMustard @ 9:48 PM
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