We once went on a seaside vacation back in the USSR. There were 10 of us sharing a room. And it wasn’t a ballroom. It was half the size of my current bedroom. Or probably even smaller.
But here’s the kicker. Everybody else enjoyed it. People had fun.
Except me. I was pissed. I was incandescent with rage the whole time. Because it’s ridiculous to share a room with nine other people. But more than that, I was angry at the people who enjoyed the vacation. I’m still angry.
I spent the first 22 years of my life choking with anger because nobody else seemed to mind the things I did. And if nobody minds, nothing will change. Every summer, hot water would be off until Fall. I was mad! But everybody else went, “yeah, but that’s how it always is.” I could have bitten their heads off. I never went back but something tells me that the poor buggers are still sitting there, feeling perfectly fine with no hot water in the summer.
And the habit of rushing into the subway car without letting anybody leave first. God, that made me mad. It’s the least productive way to get on a subway car but everybody still did it, every time.
And when we started having electricity shortages, those damn sheep were happily chirping about how much fun it is to just sit and talk in the dark. In winter! In the freezing cold! I wanted to throw heavy objects at these people!
I’m not trying to make any point about the current political situation in the US, by the way. I remembered that vacation because N said that people are only unhappy with things if they have experienced the alternative. But I was extremely unhappy long before I knew there was an alternative.
By the way, is it me or is it true that rage is the only emotion that never fades?