I’ve noticed that it seems fashionable to shoot first and ask questions later, literally and figuratively.

This isn’t a new phenomenon, of course, particularly online. It’s easy to drop off a little nugget of hate in someone’s comments or DMs whenever an ugly mood strikes. Just passing by, thought I’d leave a digital flaming pile of crap in your path. You’re welcome. Admittedly, it’s momentarily cathartic and may even spark others to chime in with their own bitter flavor of ugliness. The rush of putting it out there feels good.

Until it doesn’t.

I don’t use much social media, so my medium of choice is email. I have a rule that when I’m angry about something and I need to compose a grievance email about it, I permit myself to write whatever I want, but I am not allowed to send it for 24 hours. I can let it fly if I’m still that fired up in a day. If not, I take a deep breath, delete the evidence of my furor, and get away from the screen.

It works well unless I break the rule, which I did recently. Actually, I did it twice.

As it usually happens, The Universe is here to keep trying to teach me a lesson repeatedly until I learn it.

I broke the rule a few weeks ago. It was one of those days. I’d like to blame it on the fact that I was tired and running late all day, rushing from trying to do too many things, but it was just another busy summer afternoon. I felt my plans collapsing around me, and to top it off, a bunch of groceries was missing from my Instacart order. Of course, it was the ingredients I wanted to cook for dinner, and it felt like the last straw.

WHERE IS IT ALL? I fumed, digging through the bags, noticing there was no this, no that. I grabbed my phone, scrolling into the customer service section of the app. WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS? This is missing, and this and this and this, I tapped, in fully entitled raging mode. I hit send

Ping.

A text message arrived. It was my Shopper, saying he was so sorry. He forgot one bag, and he was on his way back, so sorry, he’d be back in 10 minutes, he noticed on his next stop.

I realized I’d been holding my breath this whole time and exhaled. Of course, it was just a tiny mistake, easy to make. Of course, I didn’t need to lose my mind. Worst case scenario, I make a dinner pivot, and we go with grilled cheese or whatever. The Shopper arrived five minutes later, greeting me with groceries and apologies at the door. I, too, was apologetic and embarrassed for my haste. I went back online to undo all I’d done, to give him a 5-star review, an extra tip.

As I put the food away, I vowed to return to my rule of pausing before acting angrily.

But clearly, The Universe wasn’t done with me yet.

A few days later, we got some news from our school that made me upset. It shouldn’t have been a big surprise, but as these things go, it felt like a big deal. If I’m honest, the issue was more about my expectations than the reality of whether this was a make-or-break deal for the upcoming school year.

I lost it and broke the rule again.

Again, I fired off an irritated, ugly email, feeling entitled and mad and fueled by visions of what I thought was going to happen versus what was now going to occur. I hit send and went to bed to toss and turn in a silent furor of self-righteousness.

I almost instantly felt that pang of regret, that sick-to-my-stomach throb of knowing that I’d potentially outed myself as the spoiled brat I never wanted to be. In the night, I staggered to the bathroom for some water. While taking a sip, I knocked the glass against my front tooth.

I heard a tiny CLICK and felt sick again. I rubbed my tongue across the edge of my tooth to confirm what I already knew. A chipped tooth. A glance in the mirror confirmed a tiny notch knocked out of my front right tooth. Small enough not to be noticed by anyone else but big enough that I couldn’t stop touching it with my tongue.

After a fitful night of self-flagellation, in the morning, I replied to my own email with remorse. Luckily, the object of my vitriol was kind enough to grant me a kind reprieve. I’m grateful for his patience and forgiveness.

The Universe sent me a lesson: The tooth. It’s easily fixed, I know, and it’s happened before. But in this case, maybe I’ll keep it for a few weeks, just in case I feel the need to lash out before I have time to cool down. Nobody notices it but me, just like those never-sent emails that go into the trash.

After all, a chipped tooth is way more fashionable than an apology any day.

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This essay also appeared in the September 2022 issue of FLM - Fete Lifestyle Magazine.