Every now and then, I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I wake up in a bad mood, which only intensifies when I realize that I’ve got to go to work. Today was one of those days. Nothing particular had happened. There was no catastrophic event or hurtful comments. I was just in a foul mood all day long.
On days like this, everything pisses me off. Everything. And everyone. On days like that, the only thing that I really want to do is go home, lock the door, and go back to bed in the hopes that I will go to bed and wake up in a better mood tomorrow.
However, as the responsible adult that I am (*snicker*), I can’t just go home and lock myself in my apartment. I have work to do. People I have to interact with. Life that must be lived. Dammit.
However, that doesn’t stop me from getting ticked off at everyone or everything in the world. Especially because I can’t even dive into my standard pint of Haagen Dazs’ Forget Your Troubles Ice Cream (Currently: Coconut and Pineapple Ice Cream). I’m still a cranky old man. To wit: below is just a collection of a few of the thoughts that crossed my mind today.
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A public restroom is for one thing, and one thing only. Going to the restroom. It’s not for hanging out away from your desk, carrying on long conversations about fantasy football with your “brahs” in the stalls on either side of you. And it is CERTAINLY not for carrying on phone conversations with your “brahs” while you’re sitting on the pot. I can promise you that NOTHING you have to say is important enough that you can’t wait until you flush the toilet, and leave the bathroom. Especially since you INSIST on talking to your “brah” about the girl he banged last night.
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Brah? Really? Because it’s just too much work to make your mouth form the letter “O”?
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What is it with salespeople? Why are they, by nature and personality, the smarmiest people in the world? I know they are the ones responsible for making companies money, but really, do they all have to act like that?
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It is NOT. OKAY. that people in the media no longer know the difference between fewer and less. I actually heard a national anchor say “He has less responsibilities now that…” Really? REALLY? You are the anchor of a national news broadcast and you don’t know the difference?
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I swear, if I walk into one more cobweb I’m going to lose it. I don’t know what the deal is with the spiders this year, but it’s like they’re amassing a giant army in preparation for overtaking the earth and enslaving all humanity.
Were it within my power, I would wipe all spiders off the face of the earth. I don’t care how many bugs they eat, they can’t compete with DDT.
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Why is it that nobody understand how to write “funny” anymore without being crass or making the audience acutely uncomfortable. Crude humor isn’t that funny…it’s just easy and cheap. And uncomfortable humor isn’t funny. It’s uncomfortable. And if I wanted to be uncomfortable, I’d go back to trying to date women again. (A perfect example of how uncomfortable does not equal funny.)
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I LOATHE it when people use the adjective “gay” as an insult. I have a couple of new neighbors who just moved in, and whose brother I happened to go to school with. Their brother is gay. Yet, even still, I hear one of my two neighbors using the word “gay” as an insult all. the. time. Like being gay is the worst thing you can be. He even said to one of his friends, “Shutup dude, you’re so gay. If you were any gayer, you’d be (fill in the name of brother here.)” Really? Jake or Megan, if I ever hear you using that adjective to classify something as bad, you’re officially off the Christmas gift list. Which sucks for you, because I give good gifts.
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I am so sick and tired of the philosophy, “Well, we don’t really have time to do this the right way, so we’ll just do it quickly, and fix it later.” Well, that would be GREAT if you ever did fix it later, but you never do, so instead of doing what I should be doing, I end up spending all of my time being the digital equivalent of a janitor.
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I am so overwhelmingly sick and tired of a country and a media being run by a bunch of extremists. I don’t want the tea party to destroy my country any more than I want the socialists to. But because we can’t seem to figure out how to entice sensible, moderate people into politics, let alone elect them, we’re going to be stuck with the presidential tickets in 2012 of Palin-Beck and Obama-Marx.
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WHERE THE HELL IS ALL OF MY MONEY? WHERE DOES IT GO? I WANT IT BACK?
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The grass outside my apartment turns into a giant mud bog the instant it starts to rain. Which means it’s impossible for me to keep my laminate flooring even remotely clean. How hard is it to landscape a public area so it’s not a marsh. The pioneers did it all the time in the midwest. Sure, they caught and died from malaria, but so what? If they could do it with nothing more than some oxen and a pickaxe, I think we could manage to dig up the marsh, put down a drainage base, and manage to keep the ground from turning to muck for 9 months out of the year.
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If you have a dog, and you don’t pick up after your dog…FOR SHAME. I pick up my dog’s poop every. single. time. There are even dispensers with bags for pickup posted all over the complex. (They’re called poopy pouches. *snicker*.) If your dog pops a squat, go get a bag and pick up after it. If you didn’t want the responsibility, you shouldn’t have gotten a dog. And the next time I get dog crap in my shoes because you didn’t clean up after your ill-behaved, mean, untrained puppy who barks all day long and growls at everything that moves, I’m going to let you pay for a new pair of shoes.
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It’s too early for summer to be gone.
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Really, Glee? A Britney Spears episode? These themed episodes are always so lame, and the dialogue is atrocious. And really, who teaches glee club like that? No glee club teacher gives the students an assignment to learn a song on a subject, nor would any glee club teacher allow his or her students to get up and start singing a song any time they wanted to express an emotion that ought to be expressed in private. If I were teaching a glee club (again), and one of my students interrupted me even before I got started talking and said, “Mr. Armstrong…I have a song that I’ve prepared for the class,” and then got up and started to sing a torch song to their boyfriend or girlfriend (because high school romances ALWAYS last forever, and are thus deserving of a tribute in song), I would tell the student to be quiet and sit down. No wonder they lost regionals. If all they do is learn a new song every week on some stupid, made up topic that some hack TV writers need to string together a bunch of songs that don’t have anything to do with anything, or to introduce some has-been pop act whose songs aren’t that good in the first place (*cough*Ga Ga*cough*), how are they ever going to get good enough at their actual songs to compete?
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And Will Schuester, I know you’re hot and all, but MOST high school teachers wouldn’t be caught dead performing a pump and thrust Britney Spears numbers with their *ahem* high school students. If they were, they’ve be fired for inappropriate behavior. Gross.
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I wish I could say that I feel better now, but all I’ve done it get myself worked up. I need to go play the piano, or kill some spiders, or drive to McDonalds or something.
I really hope tomorrow doesn’t make me so stabby.
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