criticism and chocolate

Last night I made brownies, whipping cocoa powder, sugar, eggs at about 9:45 pm. It was one of those nights where I fumbled around for something to do to lift my mood. The brownies were a slightly manic, critical effort. My job, and one client in particular, had gotten the best of me earlier in the day. It was only after I’d hung up the phone that I’d realized I’d endured another bout of verbal abuse. The only cure, I decided on the way home, was watching an entire DVD of Sex in the City (season 4, disc 3) straight through. I crawled into bed as soon as I got home and watched on my ibook. Between the third and fourth episodes I got up to make the brownies. The old stand-by, Carrie and Co., wasn't working--I was still hanging onto the ruthless criticisms I'd endured during the morning conference call. I'd have to move onto the stronger stuff. I hate how the worst insults hang in little word bubbles over your head. Like a bad pop song--I couldn't get her voice out of my head. I came to the conclusion several months ago that I will never please this particular woman, but for some reason I keep trying. In fact, I'm working my ass off attempting to be perfect to avoid her cutting displeasure. Of course this never works and I cry every time she reminds me that I am far from it. So, last night I focused on chocolate--brownies I can do to perfection.

I wish I had a better strategy for dealing with people's shit. Clearly my current plan of simply taking it isn’t working. But, like every time of struggle I know I must be on my way to learning something. Right? Maybe the lesson today is, when life gives you shit you make fudgy brownies.