My beloved husband reminded me that it’s been 2 months since I last updated here – which I decided was, probably, a hint that I should write something.  Unfortunately, he didn’t give me a topic to cover while he was nudging me to write. Thanks, man.

Nine Things I Just Cannot Handle

  1.  People clipping their fingernails or toenails. The sound is awful. The random bits of nail flying around are awful.  I don’t even clip my own nails – I file them with an emery board or use scissors (if they need to be cut a lot to match the nail next to them).
  2. Clutter, beyond a certain point. The breaking point at home is usually achieved by my husband who, from all indications, believes that everything should be stored, openly and visibly, in stacks.  Inevitably, I will start scooping up all of the individual piles and dump them into one GIANT pile while shrieking.
  3. “Is diet Pepsi ok?” It’s going to HAVE TO BE since your restaurant doesn’t have what I actually want, but no, no, it’s not actually okay. Instead of asking whether it’s ‘okay’, you should just apologize for your sub-par beverage offerings.
  4. Not getting enough sleep. Few things kill my will to live faster than being over-tired. I lose all sense of perspective, all ability to control my emotions, all urge to do anything. I will attempt to sneak away to nap any chance I get and be overwhelmingly distraught if I can’t actually get away to do it. Sleep is more important to my functioning than anything else.
  5. Drama. To be clear, I abs-fucking-lutely love drama and I crave it and I get very ‘into’ it. Which is why I work hard to stay away from it. I try not to react much to it. I get caught up in it once in a while and have to do my best to extricate myself from the experience as quickly as possible. This has taken me years. My brain loves chaos and high-emotion situations – but they inevitably lead to more angst and turmoil than I want in my life.  This doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about things that are happening – it’s more that I need to be very careful in actively deciding what part I will play (if appropriate) and constantly moderate my urges to get waaaay into it.
  6. Travelling for work.  First, I can’t sleep in hotels. (See #4.) Also, I really like being surrounded by my stuff and my people and my own life. I hate being forced to attend a meeting at 9 am. I hate standing in the line for the buffet breakfast/lunch and the fact that I have to eat on someone else’s timeline. I greatly enjoy travelling for non-work purposes and I am looking forward to future travels with my beloved husband. But honestly, when it comes to work, even heading out of town for a full-day, non-sleep-over meeting sucks. There are all sorts of factors that interfere with my ability to enjoy it – like travel time, parking/bus schedules, finding the place, etc.
  7. Non-ice water. Room temperature water is disturbing – it has a weird flavour. Hot water is not an option unless it is mixed with something like coffee or tea or hot chocolate. Even as my brain is freezing and my teeth are cracking, I’m happiest drinking ice water. The more ice, the better.
  8. Dry sandwiches. There are a lot of tasty breads, a lot of condiments, several optional vegetables, and a lot of things you can do to make a sandwich good. There’s just no excuse for a sandwich to be sad.  I especially hate this when I’m forced to eat a sandwich at one of the aforementioned work buffet things. Goddammit.
  9. Vomit. If you barf, or if I hear it happening, I become incredibly queasy and need to get the hell out of dodge. I will start gagging pretty soon after that. I can barely hand seeing it on TV or in a movie. The worst was when The Beag would barf and then eat it, while territorially guarding it. WTF, dog, no one else wants it. Go ahead. I’ll leave the room while you eat it. We’ll both be happier. Oh god, I’m queasy just thinking about it. Jesus christ, wtf.


One thought on “Nine.

  1. Coffee

    Ah, your Beag. It of course wasn’t safe to just let her eat her vomit, as she’d start to revomit it and just continue a never ending disgusting process that even she wasn’t enjoying. All while getting snappy/barky/attacky when you start herding her away from the vomit because it’s hers!


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