If the week is running its usual course, a few blocks from my office, there’ll be a guy on a busy corner yelling his lungs out trying to convert people to Christianity. Now, keep in mind, I live in the US, in a heavily Catholic city where Ash Wednesday is front page news, let alone Christmas and Easter. He also stands diagonally across from a department store which is well know this time of year for its Christmas-themed windows. I am also a devout Christian, myself. Nevertheless, whenever I wind up going past that corner when he’s yelling his head off, I get a strong urge to make him go away and, preferably, read that Book he’s yelling about and pay attention to what it actually says. I’ve even gone so far as to look up a few relevant verses and have considered printing them out and handing them too him, silently, of course.
What I don’t understand is why this guy makes me so blasted angry. Has anyone got any explanations?
On a lesser scale, people who use “utilize” when “use” will do perfectly fine don’t provoke me to fits of rage, but they do annoy me.
I see that all the time around here. Baseball caps, jauntily cocked to one side, all store tags and factory stickers still proudly displayed and/or dangling from them like some kind of pimping-on-the-cheap, FuBu hoodies worn down past the upper leg to hide the fact that their underwear is showing due to the baggy jeans being worn well south of the equator, gleaming white Nikes left completely untied … it’s like they just dived into their closet and left the house with whatever stuck to them.
Know what makes me irrationally mad? My dentist says I need a doctor’s referral to an oral surgeon. I had a 10:15 appointment this morning. I didn’t get into the exam room until 11:55. I waited 15 minutes, saw the doctor for 4 1/2 minutes and waited another 20 minutes. With the amount of my time I was willing to let them waste at an end, I opened the door and came out to ask for my referral. Instead, I was handed a sheet with a list of things they wanted me to go to a lab for. No actual paper referral to the oral surgeon. “Oh, we just have to call them to tell them you were here. That won’t be done until tomorrow.” I gave them back their other printed materials and left. I haven’t been to the doctor in three years because I haven’t been sick. If I need a doctor, he’ll hear from me. I just needed a referral to another doctor. I am not going anywhere else to be stuck with needles and provide a stool sample, it’s just not happening.
tapping and drumming. A lot of people are always just drumming their fingers or tapping or clicking and I just want to stab them in the face with scissors. My boyfriend does this and the rap tap tapping is going to eventually drive me over the brink of complete madness. He tells me that the rhythm got him but I am going to see some lab results before I believe that he can’t stop.
Also, he’ll stack our closed laptops one on top of the other. Something about laptop stackin’ upsets me.
Also, if he’s on the couch and the laptop is on the coffee table and the screen saver goes on or something he’ll use his FOOT to move the mouse. This is also extremely disturbing to me. Why doesn’t anyone understand that laptops are NOT FOR FEET.
There was this guy who sat in the next cubicle to mine for months. If it had lasted a year i would have killed him by rectally inserting his office chair. He had this huge water bottle on his desk and he would drink from it with this loud disgusting GURGLEGURGLEGURGLEevery two or three minutes all goddam day, I swear. Why he didn’t spend half the day in the toilet I have no idea.
My husband leaves the freaking cereal and the freaking milk out on the freaking counter every freaking time he has any. With the lid off the milk, the cereal box open, and the cabinet door open. The cabinet door! Why? It makes me crazy.
He has repeatedly claimed it’s because he’s going to have another bowl. He complains when I put them away and he’s not finished. Ok. I can wait, even if it makes me grit my teeth. I am not unreasonable. But when I find your freaking empty bowl on the counter next to them, with you nowhere to be seen… sweetie, I love you, but you better run.
I can relate - my husband doesn’t use the wipers often enough to suit me. The windshield is almost completely obscured - turn the damned wipers on! And give 'em a squirt if you have to - the reservoir in my Corolla is huge - we don’t need to conserve bug juice. I like a clean windshield. I’m funny that way.
Here’s one I haven’t seen mentioned. Hearing those damned thumping car stereos while inside my house and all windows shut. Why in the hell should I have to turn up my TV while I’m inside my house so I can hear? What’s even worse is when it’s so loud, you can freaking feel the vibrations of the bass. It’s ironic, though, that the music (if you can call it that) is generally distorted so not only is the driver an inconsiderate asshole but stupid, too.
As others have mentioned, leet speak, terrible spellings, lack of proofreading, etc. It’s amazing to me what gets sent out over company emails and often my thought is, “That’s from the district manager?” Yeah, I know it’s retail but damn, there’s a certain expectation of professionalism from the higher ups. I really shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering the company.
Stupid commercials make me irrationally mad, much to the amusement of my husband. “Have a happy period, my ass.”
Disclaimer: I’m certain I’ve probably made several spelling and/or grammar errors in the preceding post.
Mine is the same way! I’m a liberal user of washer fluid. So much so that I keep an extra bottle in the trunk/back of any vehicle we’re currently driving. Not to mention the topping off we get when we get the oil change.
We’re not going through a national shortage of washer fluid. Once when he got pulled over the officer asked him if the wipers were broke, and made him clean the windshield. And even when he does use the washer, he’ll leave those annoying streaks :: shudder ::
But no, no it’s runrunrunrun run, sprint & dive & stab madly at the lift button. Then blundering into my pleasantly laundered lift with all the olfactory and sartorial quality of the substitute gladiator who just got a lucky hold wrestling the lions on the straw and made a break for it.
And then she is out, at something like floor 3. Hello, stairs, walk, shape up.
Heh. I have never ever put washer fluid into a car I’ve driven: the top up from the oil change has always covered it! (But it’s more because I don’t wipe unless my windows are seriously dirty because the wipers don’t do much for small messes, except spread them around more. If they would work I’d use em more.)
A few things that throw me straight into rage:
no blinker when turning–what, I’m supposed to read your mind?
Not turning off your blinker once done–hello? HELLO?
People who just will not shut up, not even when you have your eyes closed, leaning against the wall behind your chair. I am on break–I don’t want to listen to YOU. Shut. Up.
People who listen to your end of phone conversations and try to interject. You have no idea what is being said to me. Stop trying to control the conversation. Get your own phone call!
If you lived in Canada, you’d be one of those people who clears a tiny little space right in front of the driver on the windshield and leaves the frost and snow covering all the other windows, wouldn’t you?
Oh yeah, that’s another thing that bugs me - other people not cleaning their cars off properly before driving. Especially trucks who don’t clear their license plates, so when they hit your car on the street and you watch them drive away, you can’t bust their criminal asses.
I don’t think this makes you “irrationally mad.” I think you have every right to get pissed off when someone destroys your legal right to the quiet enjoyment of your house. It’s legitimate anger. Particularly at 1:00 in the morning on a freezing cold January night when you are sleeping with all the windows closed!
When there is one last peanut butter brownie and your husband doesn’t particularly like peanut butter brownies, but you are insanely over the moon about them, plus you made them, and then he goes and mindlessly eats the last one and you don’t have time to make more because you have to go to work because your shift was moved back and basically you’re on call now, but could go at any time and so can’t make peanut butter brownies.
People who mow their lawns at 0800 on Saturday or Sunday mornings.
People who play music too loud in the car, with others in with them. They don’t ask if the volume is ok, nor do they ask if the selection is ok–they just blare the music.
People who drive too slowly in the far left lane on the expressway. I am shooting daggers at you from my eyes…
GAH! I hate, hate, HATE this behavior! If I so much as see it on tv while surfing through a talkshow or a church channel, my rage-o-meter goes through the roof. :mad:
