Ah. The tranquil things in life. A warm bubble bath, a soft blanket, a quiet morning accompanied by coffee and crossword. And oh yes, how could I forget?! Being told to calm down by a cis het man when you are angry. Thank you kind Dude Bro! You are quite right and I sincerely thank you for reminding me that it is silly for me to be angry when I could just…not be. Excuse me while I find a place to set down all of my legitimate and thought-out reasons for my outrage. But where should I stow these emotions, like a squirrel efficiently storing away nuts for the winter? Here are 20 places to put your anger when a man demands you urgently rid yourself of it:
- Lick it and stick it in his ear (Anger Wet Willy)
- On the coffee table (with a coaster, if your coffee table)
- On the coffee table (without coaster, if his)
- The space between the couch and the wall, where everyone secretly flicks their boogers and crumbs
- Next to that book you keep telling yourself you’re gonna read but never will
- In a bowl of cheesy potato soup
- In your pants pocket that isn’t a real pocket because it can hold, like, a dime and two jelly beans
- In a glass of Alka Seltzer, where it will fizzle in silent glory
- Under a fuzzy blanket, tucked in and all cozy
- In the polluted depths of the Ohio River where it will sink to the bottom until summertime, when it will be stirred by the wake of pontoon boats carrying drunken middle-agers listening to Bon Jovi
- Spread on toast
- Beneath the kitchen sink in between a dirty old Magic Eraser and toothbrush designated for cleaning grout
- Tucked behind your ear like a flower plucked in the springtime
- In your fanny pack, which you started wearing ironically but now cannot part with due to its incredible practicality and your pockets’ aforementioned ineptitude
- In the box your refrigerator came in, where your Anger will spend the afternoon flexing its imagination and dreaming its way into new worlds of cardboard pirate ships and carpeted seas
- On the compost heap, where it will refuse to decompose and compromise the integrity of your compost (rip fresh tomatoes in the summer time)
- In your backpack so that you have to carry the weight of it commingled with the citrus you swiped from the Ratty and your textbooks
- Loosely plopped on top of your head like the beanie of someone who listens exclusively to Mac Demarco
- In a diffuser, mixed with a blend of soothing essential oils like lavender and tea tree
- Anger Wet Willy in his other ear
Image via Sarah Clapp.