[Alternate title: You Damn Kids Get Off Of My Lawn.]
[Alternate alternate title: No, Seriously, Knock It Off.]
[Alternate alternate alternate title: You Really Might Not Want To Tick Me Off Right Now.]
I’m willing to cop to being fairly irritable. I’m easily riled. It’s true. I try to take it in stride. I also try to recognize when I’m overreacting, even if only to justify having more chocolate (“It’s my MEDICINE!”) or whatever. But sometimes too many annoying things happen in too short a span of time for me to digest them in a calm and rational way.
So here are a few things I feel the need to vomit back at the world this week. You’re welcome for that appetizing metaphor. You are now in the perfect frame of mind for this!
My bank. Once upon a time I could access all of my accounts in one place and do all of my banking online, and it was Very Good. Then my accountant made me convert my business account to a Super High Tech All-Official Business Account, and now it’s impossibly borked. I can not transfer money between that and my “regular” account anymore, or at least I can’t do it online. And if I wanted to go to the bank every week I’d be driving a horse and buggy. Plus do not even get me started on the fifteen layers of security I need to go through to even GET to my business account now. I have a SUPERSECRET TOKEN! I have to press the button on this little gadget and enter the 6-digit code on the screen in under 15 seconds or it explodes! Or, okay, maybe it doesn’t explode, but it doesn’t let me in! Seriously, now. I understand the need for this sort of security for a big business. Anyone breaking into my business account is going to be sorely disappointed. I mean, unless they really want one of these supersecret token thingies.
Motherf*^$%$ contact lenses. I am now using prescription eyedrops that cost more than my car, and I still cannot wear the stupid things for longer than about 5-6 hours. Yet I still try, because I am a moron.
Del Monte No Sugar Added Fruit. Del Monte fruit cups are buy one, get one free at Publix this week. I like to keep some in the cupboard for emergencies; the kids like them, and having shelf-stable fruit is handy either when we run out of fresh or it’s the middle of the winter and I tire of explaining to the children that, no, we’re not paying a billion dollars a pound for fresh peaches grown on Mars. Imagine my delight to discover that Del Monte now makes a version with NO ADDED SUGAR! Perfect! Fruit is ALREADY SWEET, so I’ve never understood that, anyway, and I merrily set to loading up my cart. Until I realized that there’s teeny, tiny fine print that says “Splenda added.” So, there’s no sugar added, that’s true. Just a buttload of chemicals. NICE. This offends me deeply. Repeat after me, Del Monte: FOOD SHOULD BE FOOD. Very good.
Doctors’ office staff who know they have the power. No, I am not calling again specifically to make your life miserable, ma’am. Not that I haven’t considered it, by this time, but no, really, I am just trying to jump through the prescribed hoops in the proper order to get to where I need to go. Yes, I know I need your help. Yes, I am trying very hard to be cordial. No, I will not stop calling until you do your job. Thankyouverymuch.
People who don’t return phone calls and then don’t apologize. Look, life happens. I get that. But if you can’t be courteous, at least pretend like you’re sorry. A simple, “Oh, I’ve been so swamped, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you” is sufficient. I don’t even care if you ARE sorry. Pretend. Then I can pretend not to be irked. It’s part of the social contract, people. If you don’t pretend to be at least a little sorry, I’m going to have a hard time pretending I don’t want to punch you.
My name. Okay, this one is a lie. I don’t hate my name. I hate people who cannot remember/pronounce/spell my name. My name is not Miranda. My name is not Maryanne or Marion or Myrrh. It is not Mariah or—and this was a new one—Mariana. And yes, I’M SURE. Why do people argue with me about what my name is? Do they think I’m confused? The mind boggles.
Waiting. Waiting for a call back. Waiting for a meeting. Waiting to hear a decision. Waiting for an appointment. Waiting for things to change. Waiting for things to get better. Waiting for results. Waiting for anything I want RIGHT NOW, not later. Which is just about everything.
That should cover it. Consider yourself notified.