I just got angry at the internet.
And I mean really angry. So angry I swore loudly, and I try very hard not to swear ever.
So angry my heart rate shot up, and is still up now, ten to fifteen minutes later. It's racing in my chest, as if I just went cliff diving or nearly got bitten by a rabid dog.
I let a webpage do this to me. Not the content of a webpage either. Simply the inefficient workings of a search function. I became spitting mad over poor web design.
This is not because I'm a man of strong design principles, either, although I do like good design when I see it. It's because I couldn't find what I wanted right away, because the site was putting an obstacle in my way. It was like getting angry at a chair because you stub your toe on it.
It was the AAA site, and I was trying in vain to find a price for passport photos. As I searched fruitlessly, I let the anger bubble up.
Did my rage make anything better? Did it improve the site? Did it improve my day? Did it help me get what I wanted? No.
It was simple, wasteful, and absurd.
Anger is rarely anything else. May the memory of this moment give me pause the next time I feel inclined to rage at a webpage, a person, a chair, a cloudy sky.
Peace, peace, peace.
And I mean really angry. So angry I swore loudly, and I try very hard not to swear ever.
So angry my heart rate shot up, and is still up now, ten to fifteen minutes later. It's racing in my chest, as if I just went cliff diving or nearly got bitten by a rabid dog.
I let a webpage do this to me. Not the content of a webpage either. Simply the inefficient workings of a search function. I became spitting mad over poor web design.
This is not because I'm a man of strong design principles, either, although I do like good design when I see it. It's because I couldn't find what I wanted right away, because the site was putting an obstacle in my way. It was like getting angry at a chair because you stub your toe on it.
It was the AAA site, and I was trying in vain to find a price for passport photos. As I searched fruitlessly, I let the anger bubble up.
Did my rage make anything better? Did it improve the site? Did it improve my day? Did it help me get what I wanted? No.
It was simple, wasteful, and absurd.
Anger is rarely anything else. May the memory of this moment give me pause the next time I feel inclined to rage at a webpage, a person, a chair, a cloudy sky.
Peace, peace, peace.
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