The bad days

I had a bad couple of days last week.  Actually it might have been a bad week, I'm trying not to think about it too hard.  It didn't start off bad, in fact, it started off pretty good.  I went to a friend's house for a modern day sewing circle, we chatted, ate some baked goods, I knitted the other two ladies quilted, it was a good day.  So what if I woke up that morning with a headache.  A headache in that same place that all the three day headaches sit.  So what if I took drugs and the headache didn't go away.  I haven't had a three day headache in awhile so maybe it would go away.
But it didn't.
Day two of the headache I went to the Crazy Market.  I've been there before a bunch of times, but this time I went with friends.  We wandered around, it was hot, but dry, I didn't buy anything, but it was good to be out again with other people.  I got home feeling a little tired and headachey but ready to go to this Parent Teacher Organization thing way out near Babes' school.  I decided to drive, because hey, that's why we have a car.
I got into what could best be described as a scrape.  It wasn't an accident.  It wasn't a fender bender, nothing was bent.  I can't even really say that paint was scraped off the car (Ok, maybe paint was scraped off our car).  But it was with a taxi driver and he wanted cash.  I'm actually ok with what happened here... sort of.  We got out and looked at our cars he asked for money.  I countered with an offer for about half of what he started out with.  But he didn't bargain.  ?(Has China changed since we first came here?  Do people not bargain any more?) He just said no, and went with his first price.  I made a call for back up.  Then he started asking me how long it was going to take.  I told him I didn't know.  I needed translation help, this guy's Mandarin was horrible.  I was stressed, late, headachey, and he was speaking in the Wuhan dialect (that's my story and I'm sticking to it).  I kept asking him to speak Mandarin and told him that it would be an hour before someone could come and take pictures and make a report.  Because you know this was the way "my company" dealt with accidents.  He decided he didn't want to wait, and got a water bottle and a rag and washed away most of the evidence of the accident (like I said It really wasn't a scrape).  He then took the price that I originally offered and left.  (I took lots of pictures, I hope this doesn't come back to bite me)  I'm not sure if I cheated the guy, or if he cheated me.  I think I'd feel better about it if he had bargained a little.  I missed all but the final minutes of the meeting, but made it to pick Babes up from school, which I never get to do, so it wasn't a total loss.
Day three of the headache was a holiday for Babes and DH.  We went to the park, skated, snacked, had a generally good time.  By this time the headache was a fading thing.  Here one minute, gone the next.  I had minutes of horribleness followed by blessed freedom from pain.
So by the next day I was pain free, but feeling mad at the world.  Unfortunately, I had to go to the store, couldn't put it off for another day.  I'm not going to rehash the encounter for you here, but let me say to you that I let road rage take over my emotions.  Thinking back over what actually went on, I don't think I acted badly to anyone but myself.  But I did allow my road rage to boil over in my head and I was horribly horribly angry at Chinese drivers.  I think the other driver knew I was angry, but I don't know that they thought anything of it (Chinese people can be incredibly patient and zen like, but then if you catch them wrong they can fly off at a moment's notice).
Why am I recounting the week here?  I think what I want to say is that if you are living the expat life, everyone has bad days.  I try, I try very hard to think positively about my host country.  I try, very very hard to allow myself to float free in the current of humanity and not allow myself to get snagged on the rocks.  But sometimes you have bad days, sometimes the current catches you and you struggle to keep your head afloat and steer clear of the rocks.
As with anything else though, a large part of this struggle is mental.  I woke up the very next day and said to myself I had to do better.  If you allow yourself to get sucked into the "I hate this place" blues then you will hate it.  It will eat your soul and you will be miserable.  I'm not saying that you will be able to conquer your blues purely by wishing it, but sometimes that is half the battle.