Some people write blogs that matter. They tackle diverse and important issues, write about raw and emotional subject matter and strive to share their souls and help others who may be having similar issues; or even attempt to educate the public with their well thought out views and opinions.
This is not one of those blogs. And today I slip even further into self absorbed navel gazing as I devote (yet another) entire blog to bitching about things that annoy me. Things that drive me mad. Things that cause me to jut around the apartment jaggedly in anger, creating new swear words because the ones I already know just aren’t fucky-ducky enough.
Here are the top 5 things to do to me if you wish to cause me incandescent raging turmoil and you’re supremely confident I’ll never be alone with your toothbrush:
1. Change the heat settings when you walk into a room
Are you kidding me? I’m in this room. Hello! I’ve been here all day. I’ve set the heat in the room to something that’s appropriate to people who are sitting around calmly for hours on end. Because that’s what I’ve been doing – sitting around, acclimatised to the perfect temperature situation I’ve created in here. You have been out running marathons and taming lions (or whatever it is that you do). Don’t come in here all sweaty and hot and then just march up to the heating and start twiddling knobs until it blows cold air in your face. Don’t lecture me on what the temperature should be in the room you haven’t been in until 5 seconds ago.
When you assume that your air temperature needs are more important than the people whose space you are invading, you flag yourself up as a bit of a selfish twat. And we all know this joker is going to pipe up in 15 minutes with a, “it’s getting a bit chilly in here, isn’t it?” Right, you’ve been sitting around calmly for a quarter of an hour and now realise that -10˚C isn’t the best temperature for that? Bah. I hope you get a paper cut between your toes.
2. Send me an email then phone me to read it out
I don’t deal with too many of these any more, but they were doozies back in the day. Some people literally type up an email and then pick up the phone to call you the moment they hit send. So you’ll just see new mail in your inbox, the phone will ring and you’ve suddenly got their voice in your ear reading out the damn email you never had a chance to read because the phone rang. Choose one. If you want to talk, just call me. If you want a written record, then email me. If you think that doing both will inspire me to deal with your needs quicker, you are wrong. I have just crowned you the Emperor Augustus Plonker and you have been moved to the bottom of the pile.
Let’s be clear here, I’m not just talking about people who email you a file and then call to discuss it because they have questions and it really needs a discussion. This makes sense. I’m talking about people who call you to read out their email. For example, if this is the email:
You can be sure that as soon as they hit that ‘send’ button you’ll get a phone call saying, “Oh, hi, I just sent you an email, I need you to do a couple of things for me. I just need you to feed my cat and then if you could put in the big order for hot sauce that I need that would be great. After that I need you to go to the crack den down the road and ask them to pipe down a bit in the evenings as I need my beauty sleep. And I had this great idea, if you go to the supermarket and buy ALL the cheese slices and then pile them up in front of the crack den that will surely work as some kind of sound proofing device and and we can all be happy again. Is that ok? You can do that now, right?”
No. I can’t do that now. I’m taking your cat and changing my phone number.
3. Cars that start moving when you’re still on the pedestrian crossing
Ok, I realise Mr Vehicle that the road is your domain. I should just stick with the footpath. It is supremely cheeky of me to want to move to the other side of the street and to expect to enter your sacred property in order to do it. Oh wait, no it isn’t. You’re just impatient. It is infuriating to see a car rolling towards you when you still have two steps to go before you reach the pavement. The pedestrian crossing is mine to cross as I please, not within a predetermined time limit set by you. I can cartwheel across it if I please. I can dawdle across it with friends, doing ‘Beatles on Abbey Road’ impressions. I can casually amble while admiring the view. I don’t do these things because I’m not a moron deliberately trying to anger people. How about you return that favour?
4. Out of office replies that don’t make sense
I’ve replied to your email. It’s Tuesday. I get an out of office reply saying:
“Sorry, I’m out of the office every Thursday and Friday. If your request is urgent please contact our call centre where you will be placed on hold with 17 bars of the newest and cheapest elevator music to keep you company until Monday when I’ll be back to deal with your request”.
It’s Tuesday. Don’t try and confuse me with all this Thursday and Friday nonsense. My grip on reality is tenuous at best. I can’t take any kind of electronic subterfuge and still be expected to perform as a functioning member of society. Sort this out on Monday. Before I lose my mind.
5. Going to sleep with socks on
This is actually the worst of the lot. I cannot explain to you the abhorrent levels of rage I feel when I wake up and my feet are covered. Just the thought of bed socks turns my stomach with angst and vitriol. No matter how cold it is, if I fall asleep with socks on I will just awaken a few hours later, mouth foaming with venom, a ferocious look in my eye and a demonic need to rip the offending articles from my feet and throw them around the room. That’ll teach them.