Company policy on shouting inside elevators

For the past three, four, five weeks, I've had this urge to yell and curse in front of my work computer. It always seems to freeze at the worst times: whenever I'm typing something; whenever I get back from the toilets; whenever I watch something, live or recorded; whenever I'm reading my email. In other words, pretty much every single time.

I don't understand, really. This PC (which won't let me blog, really, since it won't load Blogger in the right way for some odd reason) is configured the same way as my home PC. It works with the same (paltry) amount of memory, and runs on the same processing speed. It runs less applications, since I don't have the benefit of having my 7000-song music library on call at work. And yet it hangs more often.

But I don't give a damn about rationality anymore, which is why I'd rather yell and curse than ponder why this PC is failing me every single day. I could have the tech staff defragment this thing's hard drive, but my chums at that department are now on the night shift, and there always seems to be nobody watching over the servers when I'm at work. If I was crazy enough, I could demand an upgrade to this PC, but of course, I'm at the bottom of the ladder, a regularized employee with no concept of what a pay raise is. So, instead, I'd rather express my frustration in the manner than I know will work: something attention-grabbing.

I had this reputation for having a lack of self-control when I was in elementary school. Sure, we call it "impulsiveness" now, but back then, I was the mischievous kid. I never got the highest honors even if I could because of my attitude problem. I always had a tantrum for everything. I didn't want to have measles shots because I was scared of those long needles, and I remember lying on the concrete floor, crying and shouting. I always had this violent streak. Ask Mhel Rose - well, she probably doesn't remember.

They all told me that throwing a fit isn't a good thing. The principal said it's wrong. My teachers said it's wrong. My classmates stayed away, which sucked since I had this big crush on one of them. My parents probably thought I was a hopeless case. But all that shouting was a good thing for me. Never mind that it your throat hurts in the process, but all the raspy screams? You know that feeling when your vocal chords vibrate so much that you feel it without making an effort to feel it? That feeling of small rocks rubbing against the insides of your throat? It somehow tells you, "let it go, Niko, let it go." And it's oddly liberating. But it's the wrong thing to do, or so they say.

When I think of yelling in front of my desk, I end up thinking about the people around me - my colleagues, for lack of a sarcastically friendlier term, who do not have an idea about what I can do if I just let all my inhibitions go. They'd probably ask me if I'm okay or, the most likely solution, pretend that they're not hearing me and think I'm a lunatic who doesn't deserve to have his attempts at connecting reciprocated. That's what we're all told to do. Do not make a fit. Deal with things in a civilized manner. And by civilized, it means keeping shut and letting others get along with whatever they're doing.

My right fist and my right knee are absolutely banged up. My only way to release my frustrations would be to bang either of them under my desk, making a loud sound - not loud enough to be heard by everyone, just to keep things, uhh, normal. If I had a particularly bad day, I leave the office and scream inside the elevator going down, provided I'm alone and I can guarantee that for the next fifteen floors. It's not as liberating, but in a world where being yourself is never a good thing, it's the least you could do.

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