why my last post was such a downer

My last post was rather negative because I was just pissed at Yemen for a hot minute there. It’s because earlier this morning I was thrown into a wholly unaccountable rage over a trifling manner. On the bus this morning on the way to work (very early) the driver had the gall to stop and fill up the tank with gas. Now I strictly estimate and regiment my time in the morning, every minute is accounted for, wasted time equals time I could have been sleeping. Clearly this guy was not in a rush, he nonchalantly pulled the bus up to the tank, then he effed around pulling it forward and back and wending his way around the various pumps, ostensibly sleuthing out the best one. Fill your damn bus up on your own time buddy, seriously get it together. I seriously contemplated bailing on the bus and trying to flag down another as it roared past. I sighed loudly, puffed out my checks and pursed my lips in annoyance, jiggled my leg, made little impatient noises and made a big show out of checking my watch a few times. There were a couple of large dump-like trucks waiting ahead of us and only one attendant in sight. He was very clearly preoccupied in other matters, he was in fact, engaged in a SHOUTING match with one of the other drivers. It culminated excitingly by the attendant ripping the STILL FLOWING gas nozzle out of the truck port and ramming into the gas tank of our bus- the gas tank that was mere inches from my protruding leg (jiggling in annoyance) out the door of the bus. I was trying to keep my cool both metaphorically (temper) and physically (endeavoring to catch a breeze from out of the sweltering tin box of a bus. When possible I try not to show up for work uncommonly doused in a flood of perspiration and frizzy hair). A small wad of crumpled bills was exchanged and then after literally thirty seconds we pulled away. Thirty seconds worth of gas? Yeah, that was worthwhile. Asshole.
We had almost arrived and were progressing at a frantic speed WHEN THE DOOR OF THE BUS FELL OFF. This is not a joke, this is not a drill. And everyone was super unperturbed by it. We dragged it along in a disharmonious cacophony of scraping metal on pavement until eventually the bus pulled over, two men got out, hauled the door up, slammed it back in place, and that was that.
No biggie. When I got to school someone had neglected to make my copies for my first class, and then I couldn’t get the damnable printer to work. I was proceeding up to my classroom just seething in quiet rage and discontent (over-reacting, granted) when I saw someone lightly trip up the stairwell. Hah! That was all it took, everything was well in the world once more.