My demeanor expelled frustration as I sadly trudged out of the Mizzou Bookstore with 2 cheaply built textbooks in hand.
Not only did those textbooks run me over 3 Benjamin Franklins, but the bookstore decided to up-charge me $40 to give me a new textbook rather than a used textbook without my consent.
I was angry at the Mizzou bookstore's scammy tactics, angry at my professor's book assigning practices, and angry at Pearson publishing company for their logo being on the books I was not happy with.
I drudged down the street to my usual hangout spot and plopped down in a chair next to my buddies. Whipping out my laptop, I ragefully opened my web browser and declared to everyone who wanted to hear my woes, "I will now write an angry email to my professor about her textbook."
You see, the professor compiled the class textbook from chapters out of four other textbooks, fully knowing that it would remove any chance of students buying used books or buying an older edition of the class's assigned textbook. She knew her decision would set students back $100 each.
So that was my plan. Write a less-than-nice email to the professor telling her exactly what I thought of her textbook.
I snapped my web browser to my school's email client. Began a message. And then... I froze.
Hold it, I thought. This won't actually accomplish anything.
It didn't take me long to realize that the path I was on was a destructive one. My anger would tear down my professor, make me feel guilty, and leave a bad taste in the mouths of everyone around me.
I didn't really want that. My unhappiness wanted it; I did not.
I'm still angry. What do I do with this anger? How do I solve the problem?
The answer? Be constructive. And I did. Oh goodness, yes I did. I solved the problem in the most glorious way imaginable. But that's for another post.
Identify your destructive tendencies and throw them out the window. Then ask yourself how to solve the problem at hand. Answer yourself; constructively.
That's what I did.
Fast forward one hour later.
My demeanor expelled jubilation as I joyously bounded out of the Mizzou Bookstore with 1 less textbook in hand. I had returned it. A weight was lifted off my shoulders and my wallet was thanking me.
Out of my anger came a creative solution. One that was not destructive. One that made me financially better off, and one that left a great example to the people around me.
You can do the same.