Pet peeves popping up in new places
Time for a pet peeve list.
Every three years or so I need to vent about the petty things that drive me crazy. I was looking back on my last list, and many of those pet peeves no longer apply. My iPhone isn't nearly as offensive as it once was, and my refrigerator isn't spewing water at me anymore ... mainly because it's been broken for six months and now sounds like a sheep having labor pains whenever we try to dispense water.
Either I am mellowing in my old age, or I've finally learned patience. (Nah, that can't be it.) Because the iPhone is still a major pain, and I have just resigned all of us to getting water from the tap, something my children really didn't realize was possible.
Sometimes the old-fashioned way is best.
Wobbly, loud shopping carts were high up on that old list, and I must give a shout-out to The Superstore for rectifying that issue a few years back, though my gut tells me it's about time for them to start breaking down again.
My daughter's pet peeve was and always will be smacking while chewing gum or when eating. There's a name for that, and it's called misophonia, or hatred of sound. The fact that it's a condition sort of implies that it's her problem, not ours, which I keep telling her as she is quick to imply I am a freakishly loud chewer.
But I confess to having the same issue when people clip their nails, at least indoors. Fingernails and toenails are equally offensive.
I must be driving a lot these days, because some of my new pet peeves involve highway driving. Like when someone passes me, but then hangs on my left side so we are awkwardly looking at each other as we barrel down the road at 75 miles per hour. Or when they pass me, then slow down, so I have to then pass them.
Incidentally, those PikePass lanes at the toll booth have a speed limit of 75. You guys who are slowing down to 45 mph are gonna get us all killed.
Road rage issues? Perhaps ...
This next one never really used to be a problem, but now it happens all the time in retail. Like when I'm shopping at a decent store, have received great service and attention, then pay for my clothes and they wad them up in a ball and shove them in the bag. So when I get home I have some nice, new WRINKLED clothes. And frankly, if I own an iron, I don't know where it is.
We are more of a hang-it-in-the-bathroom-to-steam or toss-it-in-the-dryer-with-a-wet-washcloth kind of family.
And this is silly (like the other ones aren't?), but why is everyone around here suddenly obsessed with including the area code when they give out a phone number? I know, I know, it's a global commerce, but I'm talking about when I'm leaving a message with a local business, and they KNOW I'm local. We are still the Shady 580, people.
I could never have a pet peeve list without mentioning wet toilet seats, and I apologize in advance to that lady who gets upset every time I bring it up. I won't go into detail, but you toilet tinklers know who you are, and the madness has got to stop.
Yes, life is short, and we shouldn't sweat the small stuff. It's just that "small stuff" is so subjective!