My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Fun Poops

Gosh, Iíve been busy. What about you? I have been battling some tech issues at work with a stupid database and have lost days of productivity. Days! So, my summer project that should have been done by now? Isnít. Iíll be lucky if it gets finished by the end of the week, in some fashion. Oh well. And it hasnít helped that Iíve been procrastinating lately. I just canít seem to get up enough giving-a-damn to just focus on what Iím supposed to be accomplishing. Instead, Iím doing this.

I was gonna write the ďI was a weird kidĒ essay but itís not gelling (sp?) yet so Iíll give you a tossed off pet peeve entry. Sorry. You can stop here and do something more interesting if you wish. Iíll understand.

Things that irritate me to death include:


1. Gum chewing. I have a very, very hard time being around gum chewers. Especially those that do it (like the person I supervise) open mouthed. Itís a nasty cow-like habit and I canít stand it. So, if you see me coming, stick that wad in a tissue before you open your mouth, okay? Because Iíll still be nice to you and talk to you but Iíll be cringing on the inside. Finger nails on a blackboard.

2. Sucking/slurping on a water bottle. This is something else that my supervisee does. She has a large bottle (holds a pint of liquid, maybe more?) of water that she carries every where she goes. That in and of itself I donít understand because really, if weíre meeting in my office, the meeting ainít gonna last more than 30 minutes to an hour. You will not dehydrate in that amount of time. In an air conditioned office. When youíve been drinking water continuously all damn day. But, whatís worse is that itís like one of those bottles that attach to a bicycle Ė with a spout on the top. So she sucks, suck, sucks down water like a gerbil does in a cage. And thatís exactly what it reminds me of. And Iíve told her this before Ė in a joking way because I like her but she drives me insane nonetheless Ė but she keeps doing it.

3. Nail clipping. Clipping my own nails does not bother me. But listening to others clip their nails? Oh. My. God. Just stop. Stop! Or at least wait until Iím far enough away that I canít hear that clipping sound. Egads!

4. Flossing. My husband is ferocious about flossing his teeth. Me? Not so much. Part of the reason Iím not really into it (and hereís where that ďembarrassing revelationĒ comes in to play), is that I absolutely cannot put the same bit of floss into more than one slot, especially if food particles emerge. Which means I have to pull out more floss until I have a clean enough space for both hands and the next slot between the next two teeth. So, I tend to waste a lot of floss. And, I am guilty about the waste. So, I donít floss very often. Crazy, I know. But, thatís how it is. But, to get back to the main point: I cannot stand to hear that pock, pock, pock sound of my husband flossing his teeth. And we have those shitty hollow doors in our house so even though the doorís closed to the bathroom I have to move to another part of the house or put my fingers in my ears until heís done.

5. Food eating sounds: slurping, chewing, crunching. Oooh, I just cannot bear listening to people chew food Ė potato chips and other crunchy snacks are bad enough, especially if the person eating has a rhythm. You know? Crunch-crunch-CRUNCHCRUNCH. Crunch-crunch-CRUNCHCRUNCH. Eeee. Popsicles are bad, too. That hard to avoid slurping that happens, especially near the bottom when it begins to melt. And Iíll tell you: when Dusty was born I really, really worried that listening to a small child eat would actually make me crazy because kids eat with their mouths open and make all kinds of horrible eating noises. But actually I can handle most kid-eating noises. I can even deal with Redís penchant for chewing food up and then deciding she no longer wants it in her mouth, reaching in to retrieve the unwanted mass and depositing it on the table, the floor, my hand or my dinner plate. Lovely. Thanks all the same darling, but I really donít want your chewed-up black olive. And I certainly donít want it on top of my lasagna.

6. Whistling. Iím sure Iíve mentioned this before some time ago. I cannot bear the sound of whistling. Especially when itís some old codger in the grocery store an aisle or so away whoís just letting loose and trilling on top of it all. Iíve actually left stores without purchasing what I came for in order to escape random old man whistling.

7. Ring tones. I hate cell phones just on principal but I really hate all these bizarre sounds they utter. And they always scare me, so unexpected are they, coming from pockets and purses and jackets like noise ghosts. What the hell is wrong with just a regular old ring? I mean, who cares if you canít then distinguish your phone from half of the roomís? Thatís not really my problem. You and your stupid ring tone (put it on vibrate, please) are intruding in my ear space. Put a lid on it and do not ever let it play that song all the way through! ESPECIALLY if it's "..a way down Sooouuuuth in Dixie." Thank you, The Management.

I have other pet peeves but I need to skedaddle! Perhaps Iíll rant a bit more tomorrow. Ta!

P.S. A little comedy for you. Dusty and I were at the grocery store on Saturday and we passed the Freez-Pops display. The hand-made typed sign above the display read, "Fun Poops." I kid you not. I made Dusty read it to me so that I would have a witness. It was the one occasion that I wished I had a camera phone thingy because I have a feeling that sign's gone now.


3:36 p.m. ::
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