I swear, I am going to hulk out right here if you don’t let me finish my sentence.

Hulk out? Like the Incredible Hulk? Yeah. I don’t know where I got that threat. I was at a committee meeting last night a full twelve hours after I’d come in to work. Since then I had worked, as my granny would say, like sixty on this stupid Easter egg hunt, which, in case you care, is pretty much ready to go for the weekend if it’ll ever, ever stop raining. Okay, so I’d put in extra time here at the church, I’d worked on resumes, and then I was supposed to tutor someone before my meeting. Said tutee called three times to postpone and finally canceled. I didn’t tutor, I didn’t get paid to tutor, and I had no time left to go for a run. Oh, and I got a phone call to let me know that a job I wanted was going to an unemployed middle aged man with a PhD and not to me. I drove forty five minutes to the church in a ridiculous rain, the sort of rain when you consider pulling over and just listening to 90s gangsta rap until it’s all over. Yesterday wasn’t my all-time best day.

During this meeting the pastor insisted on talking over me every time I opened my mouth. We were talking about the design of a new website. I had done extensive research in preparation for the meeting. I’d brought notes. I had some specific questions for designers. The pastor was, I swear, talking to hear himself talk.

Have we talked about font and color scheme? I really like to keep the aesthetics of things unified as much as possible, so I may want to begin making some gradual changes on some of my work here.

Look at her!says the pastor while I’m speaking. She’s such a good little secretary, isn’t she? I remember when I was at my church in [wherever, who cares]…

I’m sorry. I’m trying to ask a serious question.

And then, then I threatened to hulk out.

Which isn’t really a phrase I use. But at the time turning into the muscly green personification of anger seemed like a genuine possibility at the time.

He stopped talking. I finished my question and got my answer. Then I went home and read a book about forest fires while I took a scaldy hot bath.

Becoming a smoke jumper is a secret ambition of mine.

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