What I Hate

        In the depth of post holiday crankiness I thought  about what petty annoyances I really dislike in life. I have been reading Joan Rivers’ I HATE EVERYONE...STARTING WITH MYSELF.  This book is far more outrageous than I would write. For example,  “I hate it when people introduce you to someone and use the word ‘lover’.  What lover means is I ingest this person’s bodily fluids’” . This statement is way cruder than I would use, but I get her point. I would think about emulating this style, but I don’t have the nerve to be that offensive.

       Minor irritations to me are usually meaningless in themselves, but when added to all the other ones, they are a teeth gnashing bad mood. I need to complain about stupid stuff and point out the idiocy of it. My ex would call this whining. Whining is defined as “to complain in a tiresome or childish way” I call it self-expression. He never understood the benefits of venting. When I complain, I feel better. When I disemboweled Cupid in a poem it was cathartic.

What makes me cranky lately is driving. I HATE DRIVING. It bores and annoys me. Everyone is in my way. Either someone is driving really slow and I can’t change lanes or a truck is tailgating. If the person weaves all over the road in a vehicle, they are either drunk or talking on a cell phone. The result is the same.-bad driving that endangers everyone on the road.

Bad driving is especially un-nerving when I ride my bike. I really don’t want to die this way. I expect drivers to be idiots, but I can’t anticipate everything. I get cut off, cursed at and almost run down. This destroys my piece of mind. I long to ride in quiet streets without breathing in car exhaust and facing the constant fear of bodily injury. Cyclists ride in large groups to fend off the car menace. A distracted driver on can’t hit everyone.

I hate people with better cars than me. I have a 2001 Toyota Corolla with 112,000 miles on it. A nice shiny new silver car with less than 100,000 miles on it would be nice, but vast sums of my savings are going to pay my daughter’s college tuition. I always have the thought in the back of my mind that I am going to break down in some bad part of town late at night. The car would look better if I actually cleaned it once in a while, but I have better things to do-like anything else.

I hate people with better lives than me. A steady income, a great job, lots of friends, a loving spouse. At the very least they could shut up about it. This is endemic on Facebook. I could be generous and congratulate a person  on their good fortune, but instead, I will be petty, ungrateful for what I have and ignore it. I already feel inadequate enough.

I hate people who brag all the time. This is another Facebook foible. To share one’s accomplishments is okay, but to constantly harp on their ivy league degree, superior children and outstanding athletic achievements is obnoxious.  I don’t need to be reminded how unworthy I am to be in the presence of such greatness. I have to resist my urge to say something snarky. I don’t always succeed.

I hate people who have to the constant need to foist their political views on me. I won’t change my mind on an issue with one citation from a dubious internet source with an agenda. I am tired of the debates on gun control, gay marriage, abortion, Obamacare, entitlements and prayer in school. Are the aliens causing all the hostile debates?  Is an irrationality virus sweeping the country?

I hate people who are happy all the time or who claim to be happy all the time. What’s the matter with them? Life isn’t always THAT great. Get real. I could be more positive, but it is too much work to resist my negative nature.

I would probably be in a better mood if I didn’t read Facebook,  ride my bike, talk to anyone or drive. But then I would be bored and complain anyway. Maybe I will just think up ways to inflict pain on Cupid. Valentine’s Day is soon.