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Oh yeah, Brenna was furious! No doubt about that. Absolutely amazing how the very air around her sizzled, and at the same time, made every nearby feel like they had just stepped into a sub-Arctic meat freezer. The words blazing from her firepit mouth could strip a rhino down to his thin underskin. Had it been able to speak, the desk that she pounded on with both fists would have pleaded to be burned for firewood to escape the abuse.
What on earth was wrong with the woman? What disastrous disaster had just happened? Nobody knew the answer, they just knew they needed to escape…now. Coworkers melted into the woodwork to run from the hot lava. Computers and printers shut down, ducked their cowardly heads, and tried to act like they were just pebbles.
Hearing the ruckus, the office supervisor stepped out of his office to investigate the problem – whatever it was. But within five quick seconds he retreated back into his sanctuary and double bolted the door. Didn’t know the problem, and didn’t care. Nothing was worth facing that screaming hyena who was by now heaving her office chair across the room to land on lamps and pictures that already lay in shards on the floor.
Police officers were called, and firmly but politely gave her an escort to the local cooler to ice down a bit. Much later, a brave soul from the office dared to inquire what kicked off such a fire in the woman. Her answer? “Oh, uh, nuthin’ really. I’m just fed up with my kids not doin’ their chores at home, and that no good husband of mine spendin’ his paycheck every @#$^& week at a bar. Sumthin’ just exploded inside me when I heard those other girls in the office laughin’ about meetin’ men at some bar tonight.”
Really?! Dropping verbal bombs and throwing furniture was the best she could do about her bad home situation? Taking her anger out on clueless people in her office? Because her home life was a mess? Not smart. Not cool. Extremely self-destructive.
Instead of aiming long pent-up anger directly at her lazy, rebellious teenagers and her bar-hopping Harry, she exploded in the office, raining hellfire and brimstone on everyone there. She destroyed her job, her coworker relationships and her professional reputation – all accomplished in three minutes of scatter-gunning her anger at the world.
Folks, please. Don’t let yourself fall into Bombing Brenna’s trap. She held her resentment and hurt in for way too long, and unexpectedly let a group of giggling ladies light her fuse. Then unable to control herself, she scattergunned everyone there with verbal bombs. And followed that up with turning her own office into a jigsaw puzzle.
If this reminds you of you, don’t impulsively destroy the good part of your world. Instead of making her mistake, go aim for the real target and fire away. Maybe you’ll actually see results - instead of consequences.
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