Pet Peeves

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!

  • And So I Begin…

    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.