Why so angry?

She shoved her way next to me on the train. Her pocketbook now occupied the same space as my ribs as she flipped open her paper, reading.

"You've got to be joking," I said aloud to her. Her response was inaudible through my earphones and by the time I'd gotten one out, she'd shut her pie hole.

"Sorry, you had to shove your way into here," I said. She ignored me. I fumed, not wanting to choke her.

The next stop, I got off the train angry, too angry, I thought quizzically. Why was I so angry? While I'm still perturbed by the inconsiderate, little bitch, I'm thankful that this incident has opened my eyes to my internalized rage. It doesn't manifest itself in outright acts. It makes me short-tempered and irritable, taking me away from enjoyment of things that make me happy.

During the rest of my commute, I contemplated my anger in between bouts of Burnout Legends. I've rationalized that it's very possible that my grief has mutated OR because in the past week or so, I've curtailed my consumption of carbohydrates. Both sound very reasonable and it could very well be a combination of both but I'm leaning towards the modified carb intake. Ask the BF, I am absolutely and unbearably mean when I haven't properly eaten. My body is adjusting and none to happily it seems. Sigh. The price I (and others) pay as I try and flatten my belly.

I should have handled the train situation more diplomatically. Still, she was an inconsiderate, little bitch.

I'll have to count to three, (okay, maybe ten. Twenty?) to mull and assess my mental state before reacting.

Thank you all for bearing with me. Except for that inconsiderate, little bitch.