Today I was told by a colleague that I was an angry person.
I feel that this may be unfair.
Yes, I may shout (sometimes volume is the only way to engage over the deafening roar of someone else’s stupid). Yes, there may be some extravagant gesticulation (miming the act of snapping someone like an autumn twig requires elbow movement, otherwise you aren’t really putting your heart into it). And, yes, there may be a crease line developing between my eyes from excessive frowning (it’s my “game face”).
But that doesn’t mean that I am angry. No, I am just trying to engage with a world that endeavours to thwart, enrage and prematurely age me. I am a science writer, and from colleagues to advertising people to PR people to lobbyists, there is a great deal of fuel to stoke the fires of rage.
In an attempt to make my colleagues slightly less scared of me (although only “slightly” because a healthy dose of fear should be wielded strategically like a shield), I have decided to start this blog, instead of ranting near or at them. This way you can decide whether the odd bout of shouting and setting-someone-on-fire mime is misplaced.
In the event of my incarceration for any one of the (very justifiable) consequences of such rage, please point my lawyer to this blog.
Yours etc etc,
Angry Science Girl (with a keyboard)
Angry science girl 