It happens in an instant, I don’t actually fall down or anything, but the level of irritation I experience is, for a moment, murderous. No clue why, just thankful it passes quickly.
Dealing with my long hair when it leaves my body and becomes wet, draping itself on my hand or wrist or comb or sink or where the fuck ever. GOD I hate that and when it happens I immediately begin pondering the joys of shaving my head. Seeing as how I’m a woman and my hair is about the only attractive, sexy thing remaining anywhere on my body, the degree to which this irritates me is obviously enormous.
The sound of someone whistling. Not a tune, mind you, that doesn’t bother me. No, whistling for a dog or to grab someone’s attention. Every time I hear someone whistling for a dog my only wish in the world is for that person to lose their lips. My god, I hate that sound.
The sound of the power cord on my hairdryer or flat iron hitting the side of the counter in the bathroom. It’s to the point that I wrap the cord around my arm while I used it to prevent having to hear it. I get exceedingly annoyed if I’m in a hotel or somewhere where I can’t use the hairdryer or flat iron without making the cord hit something.
People who are walking in front of me in a group and then when I try to go around them they veer in the direction I’m passing. Then I I try to pass on the opposite side and they veer in that direction.
The irritation I feel at this is just ridiculous. I just feel irrational rage for a split second.
People who fly by me in a soon-to-be-closing lane, and then shove their way into the open lane at the last minute. No, I don’t want to debate if this is a valid tactic/proper use of the roadway. It pisses me right the fuck off.
Other people’s music coming through the wall or from their earphones.
People who come into any thread that mentions Apple or Mac computers and turn it into a dick-waving contest about how much Apple sucks and everyone who’s ever purchased an Apple product is a cult-following fanboy.
I clean the cat’s litter box every day. The litter box is in the basement near the laundry room. On the days I do laundry, and am in and out of the laundry room several times a day, the cat is right there with me and runs over to use his litter box every time I go into the laundry room! Like he’s thinking, ‘well, might as well go take another pee, again, long as we’re down here!’. So on those days, I clean his litter box multiple times. (I don’t mind, I have a system and it takes no more than 30 seconds start to finish. But I’ve gone from once a day to 4 or more times. WTH?)
Waiting in the line at the grocery store and if I go around to the side of the shopping cart to reach in to get something, the person behind me moves up so close that the end of their cart is now touching the front of mine.
People who chew gum with their mouths open. I HATE that.
Throwing away food. I’m no child of the depression or anything, but when the kids leave half-empty drinks or half-eaten sandwiches around the house, it bugs the snot out of me. If you want half a sandwich, make half a sandwich!
The sound of the dog or the cats licking themselves. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but that slurp slurp slurp makes me want to scream.
Moving the icons on my computer screen. I know where they are. I can’t even tell you what half of them look like – I just have the positions memorized. If hitting the top-right icon stops doing what it always does, it throws me completely off my game.
Very soft music – soft to the point that I can barely hear it. If I can’t even tell what song it is, I’d much rather have silence.
Phone calls after 9 PM. Everybody who knows me knows not to call after that hour unless they’ve got at least two severed limbs and nobody else can take them to the ER. I will transport them, but they’ll owe me at least the annual GNP of Cote d’Ivoire.
Restaurants that put raw tomatoes on my food even when I explicitly tell them not to. (And I do check, every time.) Eating even a piece of a raw tomato is guaranteed to strand me on the pot for at least 24 hours. Probably psychosomatic (I can eat cooked tomatoes all day long), but the throne-sitting is very real.
Trying to strike up a conversation with me before I’ve had my first cup of coffee. The best response you’ll get from me is a half-hearted nod every couple of minutes as you make your brilliant points.
Yes, I know you just came from a very noisy bar, (like six freaking blocks ago!), and I realize you’re hammered. But damn, STFU. You can see the houses all around you are dark, they aren’t empty, people are in bed. There is no reason for you to be shouting at each other, you’re less than 3 feet apart, for christsake!
Yeah, yeah, you’re young, you’re drunk, you’re at the uni, Bully for you. Now either speak in normal range or shut the hell up - it’s 3 am, you idiots.
(The problem isn’t that they wake me, so much. But that it makes me so angry. You cannot fall back to sleep when you’re mad, damn it!)
Drive-thru attendants who ask me if I’d like “anything more” after I’ve given them my order and sealed it with, “And that’s all, thanks.” :mad: Ooooh, if it wasn’t for the power those folks wield over my food, I swear to fuckin’ god…
I can’t deal with people who tell me I’m going to love something. As in, “You’re going to love this movie” or “You’d love their mango lassi”. Invariably, I try whatever I’m being told I’ll love and I never love it.
People who don’t know when to end a conversation. I recently started a new job and one of my coworkers is notorious for this. He’s a great guy, a lot sweeter than he would probably admit to, but he has no idea when to stop talking and go back to work. Our manager is very laid-back and doesn’t mind when we stop to have a quick chat, but Chatty Emo Boy will just go on and on and on, regardless of how much you’re engaging in the conversation. You honestly have to walk away in mid-sentence, which I absolutely hate doing.