I Don’t Have Pet Peeves, I Have Whole Kennels Of Irritation*

*attributed to Whoopi Goldberg

Some days, maybe even some weeks, maybe even some months – everything just gets to me.  I bet it happens to you too, even if you pretend you’re oh so calm and balanced and nothing bothers you…

So…at yoga:

  • Why would you set up your mat DIRECTLY in front of me, when there are plenty of spots, as though you’ve used a ruler to make sure you block every inch of my view?  This is one of the many reasons I get there early and set up in the front row.  (Interestingly, the studio where this was the biggest problem was in Sydney.)
  • And if there are plenty of spots, why set up so close to me on one side that it’s clear what you are really trying to do is get me to move since I apparently have taken “your spot”?
  • Don’t fart during class.  Really.  Don’t.  (Okay, okay, I know, sometimes you can’t help it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t tick me off.)
  • Please, you truly lovely (and young) women, I appreciate you like makeup.  So do I.  But why, oh why, are you slathering on so much that you look old?  And embalmed?   

On the subway:

  • If you smell so bad that it makes me wonder if you are actually decomposing, and you’re not currently homeless, bathe.  Now.
  • Sir (and I use the  term loosely), I’m not impressed when you sit with your legs spread so far apart that there is no access to the seats on either side of you.  I am quite sure it does not take up that much room.
  • Hey, we’re all busy.  I get it.  Sometimes the only moment you have to grab a bite and drink something is on the train.  Just, for God’s sake,  take your trash with you.  Really.  Seriously.  And if you spill it, clean it up.
  • I’m thrilled for you that you know where on the platform to stand so that the doors open right in front of you.  I do too.  But I actually let people get off before pushing my way into the train, even if that means I might not get that seat I had my eye on.

On waiting in line:

  • When you’re going to an event with reserved seating, there is no need to get there early and wait in line.  Look at your ticket.  Your seats are reserved.
  • Trust me, the line will not move more quickly if you crawl up my ass.  In fact, I’ll make sure I let a big gap open in front of me before moving up, just to bug you.
  • In general, just don’t touch me.  I mean it.  Don’t touch me. 

I could, clearly, go on.  And on.  And on.  And there might be a second edition of “Kennels of Irritation” in the future.  But here’s the last one for today:

My own behavior…as in “why do I let these (and other) things, that are really no big deal, make me so crazy?”

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: Kennels Of Irritation, Cage Two « Travels With Slippers, or The Life of A Single Woman Who Prefers It That Way
  2. Trackback: Small Cages Of Joy « Travels With Slippers, or The Life of A Single Woman Who Prefers It That Way

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