Rage...

I walked into my kitchen to get my phone this morning and noticed I had missed a call. It's work. I press the voicemail button and press the tiny plastic contraption to my ear.
"Hey Melissa, it's Matthew. Uh, you have a 10:45 this morning. I'm not sure if you knew that or not, but she's here so could you please give me a call back."
Oh damn. It's 11:00 How did I miss this? I never take a 10:45. My day is supposed to start at 12pm. What happened? I call the salon back. Matthew answers.
"Hey darlin' it's Melissa."
"Hey. Listen, I'm sorry, there must have been a miscommunication somewhere…" he trailed off.
"I don't know how that could happen when I don't take a 10:45."
"I know. It must have been open because of the meeting this morning." he replied.
" I missed a meeting?!" I squeal.
"Yeah…"
"Dammit. Ok. I'm not ready to come to work yet. Can you please reschedule my 11:30?"
"I will. Your 10:45 isn't happy. I got her in over at Decatur, but she was bitching about how this is the second time she's been rescheduled."
"What?! She's knows why she was rescheduled two weeks ago. I know it's not your fault about today but good Lord!" I feel my chest heating up with rage.
"I know. She calmed down once I sent her over there."
I sigh. "Thank you. I'll see you in a little bit."
"Your welcome. Don't worry sweetie."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I hang up the phone. A rush of tears suddenly takes over and doubles me over the counter. I can barely breathe it's coming so hard. Stupid fucking !!! Fuck you! I want to scream and throw things. Rage streams through my veins as my tears burn my cheeks. I come to work every single fucking day, do my job and do it well. I don't call in sick and I don't flake out on my clients. I deliver consistent service and do what is expected. The ONE time I may need folks to be the slightest bit understanding of the current situation they want to be assholes. Believe it or not, I'm a human being! Complete with emotions and a life contrary to popular belief. For a second, just one little second can you not see me as a thing to dump your shit on, but as a person and have a teeny bit of compassion? I just lost the best thing that happened to me!!! Can you give me one fucking minute to get my shit together ? THEN I'LL DO YOUR FUCKING HAIR!!!
I stumble around grappling for the things I'll take to work today. I finally walk out the door, climb into the car and drive. I'm still crying hysterically and shaking so hard I'm amazed I even got to work. I know I don't need clients like this. I know she sucks but I'm disappointed in myself for not paying attention plus, her anger is adding to the fact that I can't bring Rob back and fix everything.
I walk through the door and down the hall to the break room. I put my things down and notice Matthew in the office.
"Hey. Did you get my 11:30 rescheduled?" I ask.
"I did. She's coming in this afternoon to see you."
"Thank you." I sigh.
"Come here." he hugs me.
The tears start up again.
"Sweetie, don't worry. It's ok."
"I'm just mad that I'm trying to be here, I'm trying to be happy but I'm not and this wants to be awful." The words barely make it out of my mouth. I hate what I sound like when I'm trying to talk and cry at the same time. I also hate having this meltdown at work.
"Don't be mad."
I know I don't need to be mad but I am. I just need everyone to understand that and let me be mad and then I'll move on from it. Again, for once in my life I'm not interested in hiding how I feel anymore. I'm almost grateful to be filled with such rage. I'm scared of it's intensity but it means I'm actually feeling something.
I stand there, not wanting to move.
"She does want you to call her though." he tells me.
"What? What for?"
"I don't know."
"I'm not calling her." I manage to calmly state. "I don't understand why she'd need to talk to me."
"To bitch at you I guess."
"Fuck that." I walked out of the room.
Shali set up my station for me. My 12pm wants something different but not too different. She'd like bangs but not too short or too long, and layers but not too short. Honey please, I don't have the energy for this today, nor the brain power to focus on finding the perfect balance between all her requests.
"I want my bangs in my face but not in my eyes." she tells me.
What the hell am I supposed to do with that information?
"Ok, do you want them shorter then?"
"No. I don't know. What do you think?"
Get out of my chair.
I finally cut her damn bangs and start my next one. He's quiet for the most part. I feel my eyes filling up with tears again as the blade of my shears glide across his neck. Why am I crying? I think to myself.
I have yet another freak show coming in after him. She hates her hair which makes my job all the more difficult. When the client doesn't like the hair God gave her, there is nothing I can do to make it better. When I ask her a question she just stares at me. No reply, just staring. She doesn't start talking until I've shampooed her and combed her out. I've found it best to not ask anything.
My day ends. I've asked my manager for more time off. All I can think about is writing, and Rob of course but that's a given. I want to write until my hands fall off. It's something I've always thought about, taking time off work to just chill in a coffee shop and write. I didn't think it would happen like this. She marks two weeks off. I'm ecstatic.
I get into the car and drive to Smyrna to see my most favorite clients, Stuart and Kathleen. Stuart needs a haircut and wanted to know if I'd come to their place to do it. Gladly.
He opens the door before I'm able to knock.
"Hey! I dressed up for ya!" he exclaims. He's wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I usually see him in a suit.
I smile and hug him.
"You ok?" he asks.
"Nope!" I still manage a smile. I saw Kathleen the day before Rob died. I haven't seen Stuart since.
He hugs me again and then we walk over and sit in the living room. I tell him about my day. As I'm finishing the story, Kathleen walks down with their year old baby, Parker.
"Hey!" she sits down with him.
"Hi!" It's so nice to be with fabulous people.
"How was work?" she asks.
"It's um, over."
"That good huh?"
"Tell her what happened." Stuart piped up.
I retold my story.
"What is wrong with people?!" she exclaims.
"I know!"
"Look, this is what you should say the next time you see her." Stuart says. "Tell her, "I'm so sorry we had to reschedule your appointment. Next time I'll try and schedule my boyfriend's death at a more convenient time for you." That'll shut her up!"
Kathleen and I explode into laughter.
This is all I really wanted to do today. Write and see them. I've been doing their hair for over five years now. I can't believe that much time has gone by.
We ate pizza and talked. I cut Stuart's hair, then went home. I enjoyed the drive back. I thought about all the good people that I'm surrounded by. For every hundred fabulous people there are only a few assholes which in the grand scheme of things is pretty nice. How else would I be able to appreciate the good ones if I didn't have some bad ones in there somewhere?