Why something silly made me angry

Two stories.

My wife’s car battery died Tuesday. $200 worth of work. At the mechanic it became clear her gear shift release button was stuck. $400 the next day. A bombardment of stress. My weekend last week was all but killed though I got some lovely time off later that week. A lot of work. A lot of money. A lot of stress. Fairly calm.

I’ve been in the hunt for rare horror tie-ins. The cost of all of them is exorbitant, even for poorly made novelization omnibuses. Today, I learned once and for all that any hope of digital editions was crushed. The rights holders don’t want them at best and there’s a mess of legal issues at worst. (Look up Friday the 13th.) I am effectively blocked out from this world.

So guess which of these caused this blog entry?

Yeah it’s time to yet again discuss how my brain is out of balance. Because the major hit left me unphased while the silly little nothing upset me far more.

Actually, let me be clear. I hate the news about the car. I’m deeply worried. But at the same time it didn’t induce primitive frustration in me. I get it. Cars cost a lot to fix. NBD. The situation the fixes solved was far more anxiety inducing honestly. There is, in other words, a balance. Car needed fixing, car got fixed.

There’s no balance here. I’m looking to read some silly, unimportant pulp books for Halloween season. The thought that I would have to spend at minimum 28 dollars (lowest cost as of this writing) for a Freddy Krueger novel is, to be polite, obscene. I’m looking for a couple of hours of fun. They’re looking to charge in some cases $150. Not balanced.

And so here we are. Two situations. One perfectly in balance. The other not. The first will be an ongoing stressor but I get it. The second I can’t come to terms with.

Why else might I be angry here? Well I had power in the car situation. I knew where to take it. I knew how to deal with it. I did. It got resolved. In this case, I’m clinging to hope someone randomly gives their books to goodwill. I can’t do anything against the mountain of corporations to convince them kindle is their friend. I certainly can’t afford the books.

And then there’s the value issue. My wife can’t function without her car. I don’t need these books. I’m not really a horror fan. I’m only looking to dabble. I don’t get this way about rare comic book novels, though those rarely cost obscene amounts and appear often in the wild. I’m not that way at all about graphic novels because Comixology has everything I want.

So it comes down to this. I want what I can’t have. Would I care if they littered the streets? No. I didn’t buy a couple I saw in the wild once though I had no idea how bad the cost was. I don’t want the few I can find. I’ve found a wall of Buffy novels at goodwill I shrugged at. (OK I bought 6 but by my standards.)

That’s what I can’t resolve. But I’ll live.

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