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Someone cuts me off, and when I honk at him, gives me the middle finger, triggering maybe the worst meltdown I\u2019ve ever had in my driving life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just how bad was it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I reached my office, my colleague asked me why my eyes were bloodshot. I got so angry that some of the tiny capillaries inside my eyes had flared up so badly my eyes looked as if I had an allergy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few minutes later, I noticed some blisters had appeared along my waist and wondered what insect had caused them. But those were actually shingles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had gotten so angry I lowered my immune system enough that it was no longer able to fight off the shingles virus, and it erupted on my waist. Immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But by far the worst thing that happened that day has actually lasted with me to this day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stomach would never be the same. That night I had my first acid reflux incident and have been living with GERD ever since.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve never been as angry as that day and hope to never be again. But I learned a lot about anger and stress, the hard way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anyway, the moral of the story is: I aspire to reach a place in life where I can have a chauffeur. That\u2019s my goal. To never drive again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There\u2019s me, and there\u2019s me behind the wheel. These two have nothing in common. When I\u2019m driving, I\u2019m the angriest most foul-mouthed version of myself. Here\u2019s a short story. Rewind to 2010. October. Jeddah. My flight to London is tomorrow. My passport was still in the UK consulate, no news about my visa. An entire … <\/p>\n