Life, but more so

I once read somewhere that being on coke intensifies one’s personality. So if you’re a bit of an asshole everyday, snorting coke turns you into a Super Asshole. Since I am fairly square and have never had the snorting sort of inclination, I have never found out for sure if this is the case.
Lately though, I have been wondering if intense grief has the same sort of effect on a person. On most days I have a failry laid back bitch that dwells within me. She’s not terribly overt, and rarely is she outspoken. But these days she is present and alert. The other day while waiting in line for gas, an older woman tried to get ahead of me in the line. It was rush hour and lots of people were at the gas station. A few months ago I would have backed up and let her get in line. Now? No. No way. I motioned for her to move. She motioned for me. I said (through my windshield), “No way, bitch. I was here first.” I filled up while she glared at my ass and, I suspect, sent bad karma my way.
That is just one little facet of my bitch. She is there every day. And she is mad. I know it’s part of the grieving process. It’s part of losing my dad. It’s part of finally recognizing that it will never work with Matt. It’s part of letting go of him and part of wishing things could be so very different.
I hope that at some point she doesn’t get completely out of hand. I hope that in the meantime she does good and not destruction. She’s probably here for a good reason. And secretly? I rather like her.