You know those e-mails? The ones you type furiously, pouring your heart out, never intending to hit the send button.
The ones you write when you've been slighted, or feel overwhelmed, or sad.
The ones that should probably never be read by another?
Well, my stress returned soon after my walk in the rain last week. And I was horribly frustrated by my boss, who is also my good friend. And in a sleep-deprived, caffeine-high, stressed-out manner I wrote.
And wrote, and wrote. And then when I was deciding whether to send or not.
Yes, this is the part in the horror movie when I'm screaming at the soon-to-be-sliced character, Don't open that door!
I opened that door.
I hit send.
He's my friend, right. It can't turn out that bad?
Oh, no. Oh, what have I done?