Clancy Needs to Stop Lowering the Boom

The last few days I have been a powder-keg of stress waiting to blow up ("The idiot didn't change that document yet?!?", "Wasn't this supposed to be done three weeks ago?!?", "Overtime again?!?"). I was letting stressful situations get more stressful by responding with anger and making it worse.
See, I'm set up for a lethal double-combination of quick anger: fiery Irish blood and ADD (which provides me with the ability to say stupid things before my brain can stop me). I was about five seconds from freaking out at work and getting my ass fired when I decided I needed to leave and get a massage.
While Jan at Comfort Zone worked out the worse-than-usual knots in my back, I realized that I had to let everything go. I was taking too much on and it was harming my emotional and physical well-being. I had to stop thinking of other's actions as personal attacks, and even if they are, I need to blow them off and move on. The tension in my back released, and a zen-like state washed over me. All was right with the world. I needed to go back to work, let the stress roll off of me, get over old hurts, and work towards stopping new ones. The universe was telling me that all would be well.
I walked back to work with a new feeling of calm, until I heard the screeching tires and saw my reflection in the truck's grill one foot to the left of me. I laughed - the universe was telling me that all may be right with you, but we're still going to send you crazy shit to fuck with you. Ha. Ha. Ha.
So now, like Tomasz's "OctSober", I am going to attempt a month of not "getting my Irish up." Let's see if it works and I can make it until (fittingly) St. Patrick's day. Please don't poke me with a stick.

(Note 1: Jan at Comfort Zone is awesome - go see her!)
(Note 2: I had right-of-way, crossing with the Walk sign and the woman in the big truck was turning onto Superior Street. If you happened to be in Jitters at the time, you got a great view of the action.)
(Note 3: I always though that if I were about to be hit by a car, I would have time to react and jump out of the way like some action hero. I was wrong. I would be thrown to the ground like a crash test dummy.)
(Note 4: OK, I didn't actually laugh - I actually said "Jezuz Ker-rist!!!")
(Note 5: At no time have I ever liked Notre Dame and/or given a rats ass about football in general - I just figured the mascot was a fitting Irish stereotype)
(Note 6: More fiery Irish stereotypes that I used to sing about in school: "Clancy Lowered the Boom")
(Note 7: Now I can't get the song "Clancy Lowered the Boom" out of my head.)
(Note 8: Don't make fun of specific departments when people know where you work. Getting fired would definitely get my Irish up.)