What?

Sunday I was revising a short story and letting my iTunes music shuffle and up came "Fix You," not the Cold Play version, but the one from Young@Heart. And I had to stop and listen, and then replay it. I don't know if you feel the same way about it if you haven't seen the film, but there is something about Fred Knittle's voice, the register he's in, that hits me. Maybe I'm just remembering the sight of him on stage with his oxygen tank, at what is one of the emotional high points of the movie. Or maybe his voice resonates with me because it reminds me of someone else. (My father? sometimes I think maybe.)

Anyway, I just started to cry.

Yesterday I had an incident at work where someone took something out on me in an email that wasn't my doing, in a way that was surprisingly sharp. It burned me up and it took everything I had to stop from firing back or screaming or tossing my computer out the window in a rage. I could feel the heat rise inside of me and it wouldn't go back down - whenever anyone innocently brought up a related topic, I found all my thoughts racing in 4-letter words. How could that %$#@! have said that to me?

But, the question sets in. Is this the start of the emotional roller coaster? I don't want this to turn into Medusa's menopause blog, but I fear my body is fucking with me. And I don't like it. At least I'm able to recognize that this is what it is, and tailor my response accordingly. So far.