Day 124 / Hulk Smash Pet Smart...


Moving sucks. I'm not going to pretend there's even a single thing about it I like. Not the packing, the paper, the bubble wraps, the duct tape, the arguments, the stubbed toes, the waiting on the phone with someone from an airline or consulate; who can't be much help when you're not even sure what you're asking for. Not to mention the dull headaches, the demoralized eating routine, the hours in traffic, the trips back and forth from this place or that. It's exhausting. Mentally and physically. And it's only begun. 

I will admit to a rather high level of stress these last few days. It's been coming in waves and has only been heightened by the unfortunate lack of sleep, which itself comes from having the stress in the first place - so who even knows which of those comes first, and there you go it all comes back to the chicken and the egg thing and it's a whole vicious cycle and I'm tired... 

I was in a Pet Smart today getting some wonderful news about the inherent hassles of flying with my dog when I finally just had that little internal snap. My girlfriend laughed at me, not then but later, as she could see my eyes go all crazy-like while the woman was telling me about the dimensional constraints we would be facing on a plane soon. 

I did do all the above carnage in my mind for a moment, as I stood there, staring at dog carriers while Jeannette talked to the nice woman. I'm sure everyone there could see the destruction I wreaked behind my unfocused eyes in that moments. I was Hulk mad. 

You know the one, when you're just the perfect combination of annoyed and tired? And that one little thing happens that makes you want to go berserk and smash something large and expensive and fragile and sparky (so that sparks flew with each blow I rained down upon it)

As you can see I try to be artistic even in my fits of destructive rage.

Does that ever happen to you? I'm sure it does. Hulk mad. When the primate almost fully takes over and you're reduced to just standing there picturing doing what you'd like to do. You don't do it, of course, because you're not crazy and you know the rules and respect your peers and yada yada yada but you go there in your mind for a moment and some shit gets smashed up.

All I'm saying is that if at that moment a man came running into PetSmart holding a television set he'd taken in a lovers quarrel and screamed, "Can someone smash this?" I would have been in heaven.  

I'm fine now, don't worry. I've just been frustrated recently. The moments are fleeting but there. I'm going to try to write and read more. The TV has been on a bit more than it has been and I'm wondering if that has anything to do with it. The impulse to turn on CNN or some other news show has come back. I've started tuning in a bit more to things to have something to write about while all I do is moving shit, but perhaps I'll dial that back a bit. 

It's funny. I just remember the only time I ever actually acted on on a Hulk moment. It was during a playoff hockey game in high school. The first game in best of three series. KCA vs. Central Kings in Berwick. I went behind the net to hit Jon Salners and he turtled. I smashed into the boards to the delight of the crowd and when I went back at him at center ice he did it again. I got so pissed off when I came off the ice I snapped and punched the wall behind the bench. The wall was cement and my gloves were shit and my hand broke. 

The one and only time.  

PetSmart was a far cry from a playoff hockey game against CK in 1995. I was no where close to punching any concrete walls. But I think, finally, at last, the stresses of the last few months have caught up to me. I'm sure all I need is a couple of days to not think about moving and all the chaos that entails. But those moments are few and far between right now.  

I have more strangers coming to my house tomorrow to give me green paper for abandoned products. Wish me luck.