So normally I like to talk about things I like. And when things irritate me, I write a “To Whom It Concerns” post. But today I’d like to talk about things that are the devil. Things that are just so wrong I don’t have words. Not like, holocaust wrong. Like pee-everywhere-but-the-toilet wrong. Here you go:
- Windows 8. I hate you so much! I can’t find anything. ANYTHING. Except the internet. I know that’s all that should matter, but sometime I might want to write something. I’d like to be able to start my Office Suite without having to go through seventeen steps! And where is Free Cell? Solitaire?? The App Store is NOT helpful!
- Waking up any time before 8:00 a.m. Ok, I guess I can take waking up at 7:00, but 4:30? 5:00? NO. Note to body: STOP WAKING UP BEFORE 7 A.M.!!! You’re really pissing me off!
- Toddler and Older Toddler Formula. This is a real thing. I saw it at Target. “Milk Drink”. WTF? It’s just freaking milk!!! You get it from a cow! It’s $12 cheaper!!
- The Dropoff Line. Ok. The school is located in a business park so it’s not ideal. But people, there are RULES; and dammit, you better start following them! For instance, parking on the side of the road (that’s painted red and covered in NO PARKING signs?) or the middle of the road to let your kid out because of the long line? NOT COOL. You’re making the line take even longer, and it’s not safe for your kid. I’m getting to the level of road rage where I might just hit you or your kid to prove a point. And school? QUIT SENDING HOME NOTES AND COMPUTER CALLS if you’re not going to do anything about it! When I see it’s my kids’ school on the phone, I’m freaking out that you’re calling to give me bad news!
- Diet Coke. WHY, when there is Coke Zero in the Universe, would you subject yourself to that battery acid? You know how you can leave a Twinkie and a cockroach on a rail during a nuclear blast and when it’s all over they’ll both still be alive and well? Well, if you put a Twinkie in a Diet Coke, it will dissolve in seconds.
- Boys & Toilets. Look. Your urinating instrument is positionable. Why can’t you point it toward the center of the toilet bowl? How hard can that be? Pretend the head of your mortal enemy is in there. Why you gotta pee everywhere but the target? I don’t even want to know how your piss ends up on the ceiling. That, my friends, is why YOU get to clean the bathroom and not the ladies.