This is me mad. Not really. That's me pretending to be mad, but I doubt that's really what my mad face looks like. But if you want to know what my real mad face looks like then you're going to have to ask my kids or my husband. I'm sure, though, it's much more furocious than this.
I started thinking the other days about my pet peeves. I'd thought for the longest time that there were only a few things that made me mad, and there are. Like child abuse, just for example, or child neglect. Now, those tick me off. We're talking blood boiling anger. Nope not gonna get picked for jury duty with my feelings.
But when I say pet peeves, I'm just talking about those little things that annoy me. I'll gripe about it for a few seconds, or grumble to myself, then the day goes on. Pet peeves? Yep. I've got several ...
Take the woman in JayC today scouring the aisles with her three-ring binder of coupons. The coupon craze is driving me crazy. People, coupons have been around for a long time. It's nothing new, but I guess if TLC says it's important, then by all means, jump on the bandwagon. After all, you can never have enough bottles of $1 Colace tablets, right?
Big trucks that blow out billows of black smoke. I'm no environmentalist by any means, but it seems a little on the senseless side. Most of these guys probably suffer from Little Man Syndrome, and the black billows that pollute my air are likely a replacement for other psychological issues. Regardless, save your money and buy a house or put it back for your kid's college education and save the rest of us some air to breathe.
Old people who drive 20 miles under the speed limit. All old people who drive slow should be sentenced to driving a Mustang Cobra with nitrous in the trunk so they have no choice but to go fast. I'm no crazy speeder, but there's nothing wrong with the speed limit.
Yard sales. Hate having them, rarely visit them. If you don't want it, then likely I don't want it either. If I do happen to want your stuff, then you might want to organize it neatly because I will never dig through piles of clothes on a table, hoping to find that cute little outfit for my son for 50 cents. Nope. Gonna drive on by ...
Facebook rants. Facebook many things, actually. If you knew how many of my Facebook friends are blocked from my newsfeed, you'd be surprised. Almost all of them. If you've annoyed me at any point in time, you're blocked. Sorry. Rants against your boyfriend's ex-wife who can't even see your FB posts, cursing and other nonsensical stuff doesn't need to be a part of my day.
And like I said, I'm just getting started ...
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