I like to think that I’m basically a nice person, but I have so very many pet peeves. Bête noire (bêtes?). Things that just make me crazy. These are just a few that seem to occur most frequently in my world.
People, who misuse, punctuation?
People who don’t understand how to appropriately use apostrophes for dates. To wit: “I love the 80’s”. If you write it this way, you are saying that something belongs to 80, not abbreviating a decade. The correct abbreviation would be, “I love the ’80s.” You are making 80 plural, and cutting the ’19’ off.
People who don’t understand the use of apostrophes. Period.
People who use the word ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’. And vice versa.
People who park crookedly so that nobody can park next to them, or who park a gigantic SUV/truck in a compact space. This happened to me when going to yoga last night. I just love squeezing between my car and the beat up clunker next to me whose driver couldn’t be bothered to straighten his/her car in the parking space.
People who smack their gum or chew with their mouths open. Disgusting.
People who don’t wash their hands after using the restroom. There are at least a couple of women in my office that I know for a fact do not wash their hands–or just briefly pass their hands through running water, no soap or scrubbing. Consequently, I never touch any door handles around the office with my bare hands.
People who use the word ‘literally’ without–apparently–understanding what it actually means. If you are literally dying over the cuteness of a dog/baby/pair of shoes, get thee to a hospital.
Well, I think that’s enough negativity for now!
This is a vanity project. I mean, why lie? I am always tired, have so little time to myself (I’m a full-time office drone, wife and mom to a toddler)–but I also have a lot of opinions. What better than a virtual home to rant and rave without the judgment and input from family and friends?
At times, my loved ones are exhausting. I was ‘friended’ by old friends, old co-workers, my father-in-law and my grandfather. I have relatives whose politics make my blood boil. I no longer feel that I can say what I want when posting; I’m always cognizant of not offending, of not seeming to slight, of maintaining my public image.
So this is a sort of diary where I can say what I want, when I want. And I’m not telling my family and friends it exists. Maybe it will be discovered by stranger-readers, maybe I’ll be the only person who ever reads it. But I’ll feel better for unburdening myself by shedding my good girl need to please at whatever cost.