The Opposite of Tears of Joy (Smiles of Frustration?)

I think I get a kick out of things going wrong, finding someone or something to blame, and then investing all my energy into somehow extracting my revenge. This tends to occur in the following form:

1. Me, the helpless victim, tries to purchase goods or services from big business.
2. Big business screws me over by not delivering as promised.
3. Consequently, I suffer some massive injustice. This may be that I end up having to pay an addition $3 to get something fixed, am uncomfortable in a plane because I get stuck next to some person who takes up my seat as well as theirs, or something similar. Either way, the injustice I suffer, is, naturally (when I argue about it), roughly equivalent to WWIII.
4. I pull out the Bacher gene (that part of the chromosome inherited from my maternal side of the family) and complain. This is the part that I may get the slightest kick out of it. I complain verbally or in writing. Whichever way I do it, I don't stop until I get my way. Of course, sometimes the effort is way more than the argument is about. But it's about principle and the satisfaction it brings. It feels little better if I can tell myself that the other party has somehow learnt from their mistake.

This long weekend has taught me about one fatal flaw in the above process. And it occurs when there isn't another party that I can rightly blame. When that 'other' party is myself. When people ask me what I hate about myself most, what I would like to change most if I could, it's my inability to simply accept that I lsometimes do terribly stupid things and make mistakes. I'm not talking about anything serious like uoisoning a human by accident, I'm talking about simple material things which equate to money - $10, $100, $200. And why do I hate this in myself so much? Because it's so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. So why do I do this to myself? Well, of course there is logic, otherwise it wouldn't be me...

I ache and pain over planning. I dare say that I am relatively good at it. I squeeze the best value out of every cent and the most things I want to do out of every second I have. I can afford to be more relaxed and spend a bit more money, but I think I enjoy the challenge of not doing so. If there is a way to optimise value for money, I'll find it. It's just the way I am. So when I make a mistake, when I screw up, when I plan badly and end up paying for it financially, I feel like all that planning was wasted. Totally wasted. And the irony is, that the reason for the screw up is because that particlar thing that I screwed up, was not planned well. Talk about positive reinforcement of a really obsessive behaviour!

Then, rather than just accepting the mistake and moving on, I ache and pain over the failure. I calculate in my head, over and over again, the dollars and cents the mistake cost me. Whether it's the lost time, the cost of a taxi, a night in a hotel, added up in my head, over and over, again and again. It makes no difference, but I still do it. Sure, I tell myself it's pointless and I already know, in my mind, all the good advice that anyone can tell me about the matter. But it doesn't change things.

Of course I could go to a shrink, have my problem analysed, and relax in the satisfaction of knowing that I (and my insurance) are helping to pay for the shrink's meal at a fancy restaurant, and that I have just wasted a few more hours of my life. But, I already know the outcome, so why not just write it here - it's quicker, cheaper, and probably more effective.