What, me angry?

So, last night my acupuncturist (who has no webpage, but whose contact info is listed here) kept asking me why I was angry.

"Why, whatevah ahh you talkin' about, sugar blossom?" I replied.

Well, actually, I didn't say that. I'm no fragile flower, of course. I actually asked her what the hell she was talking about.

She explained that my "energy" was very different than usual. Well, I know better than to try to fool the Mojo Master that does all my bodywork (massage, energy work, acupuncture).

But I apparently do not know better than to fool myself.

I denied being angry. I believed I was not angry.

But my massage was not going well. As I recall, her comment was that she could not tell where my muscles ended and my bones began.

When she began to insert the acupuncture needles, I felt them in a way that I’d never felt them before. I felt my back revolt. It resisted violently. My trapezius launched an assault on the needles! I couldn’t help but envision them backing out slowly and cautiously, afraid the trapezius would go postal on them.

But when she began the cupping, it was ON. I thought my body would lurch crazily off the table, despite myself.

So I began to create a visualization, a visualization intended to take back control of my body. I visualized the cup stuck to my back actually sucking my very trapezius right out of my back. Ripping it out, effortlessly shredding the fine ends of it as they struggled to maintain contact with my scapula. The cup then flung the bloody and pulsating angry trapezius onto the floor.

And I jumped up off the table and began to stomp that trapezius into submission. I beat it with my fists, stabbed it with my stilettos, flung insults and invective at it, piled furniture on top of it and finally set the whole effing thing ablaze.

But I’m most definitely not angry.