You know, I do think I give myself a hard time. I am very hard on myself. Most days I think that I am pretty much the scum of the earth, that everyone else whom I pass on the street is worth more than me. How I determine this worth, in what currency, I don't know, but I tend to think that all I say and I all do is worth nothing. And I feel badly for being who I am. And I go to therapy to try to change myself, because I am just an inferior person, full of discontent, negativity, naivety, confusion, inexperience, blah blah blah. But I will say this. I am tired of all that. I am actually a good person with plenty to say and give that is meaningful and valuable, and my complaints, though they may seem like many, are legitimate. I actually don't have that many complaints; I just tend to harp on the same ones over and over again. And I feel guilty about complaining, because I feel like I shouldn't complain, that complaining is for losers, that life is great and I should feel lucky to be alive... again, blah blah blah. But again, I will say this. There are some things that I should complain about. Some of my complaints are legitimate, and I am tired of feeling badly about getting annoyed by certain things.
Here's thing number #1 that I am tired of feeling badly about getting annoyed by (and yes, I know that sentence was filled will all kinds of bad grammar, but tonight I'm not going to care about my grammar. I will use poor grammar without guilt or shame). Thing #1: Things not being in their right place. Now I am not saying that I am the neatest person in the world. I create piles of junk just as well if not better than the next person, but what I do like is to know where things are and have everything be in that spot when I go to look for it. For example: We have a jar on the island in the kitchen. It holds elastic bands, twisty-ties, thumb tacks, pens, and a pair of old scissors. I like the scissors to be there, there in the jar, because often I have a need for a conveniently placed pair of scissors. However, frequently I go to get the conveniently-placed scissors and they are not there. Where are they? Beats me. They are missing. And then I have to spend an inconvenient twenty minutes or more trying to locate the so-called conveniently-placed scissors. Another example: my camera and my USB cord for the camera. My camera lives in my pocket book. If it is out of the pocket book and lying around the house it is because I have made an unforgivable oversight in not putting it right back into my bag, which I faithfully do 98% of the time. In that shameful 2% of the time, though, I know where in the house the camera can be found. However, not when the camera is taken away. Moved. Without me knowing where to, when, why, or how. And even when I find the camera, if the USB cord, which is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS in the computer, is not there, then what good does the camera really do me? Because what is the camera for, after all? Taking photos for the blog. And if there is no camera cord, then there is no blog. If the USB cord goes to work, just like all the Tupperware containers, CDs, Blackberry chargers, and other such items, it will never, not ever come home. Please, why can't the camera's USB cord just stay in the computer?
These complaints are legitimate. If something is moved, put it back. Life is so much easier to handle that way. Really. Trust me on this one.
Now that I'm done revealing my innermost thoughts on this blog, probably revealing way to much of me and making a fool out of myself in the process, I will go try to find something to eat. I hope the cereal is where I left it last Sunday...
6 comments:
In most cases things are put back. We apologize for the cord not being put back, however, an alternative cord was given to you rather promptly to account for the missing cord. I sometimes wish things were put away properly too, like glasses full of Gatorade late at night. That being said, I will nicely (and politely) put said items away. Oh what else? I wish dirty items were discarded, but people fall asleep, dreaming they had discarded their refuse, but in reality it's their garbageman Doug who throws the items out.
Yes, it's an annoying world indeed!!!
Yes, sometimes things are put back. However, your gripe is a little different than mine. Your gripe is that I don't pick up after myself (and I, too, have my own gripes about that, but that is for another blog post indeed), and my gripe, at least for this particular post, is that certain things have a designated spot in which they should always live. That's all. Simple, end of story.
Here's the good thing though - you're very cute and I like you. I just needed to vent a little. Now please bring back the cord for the camera so that it is not lost in the abyss that is your desk at work.
I don't want to interrupt, but I like this post. I mean, sometimes I think that's the real purpose of blogs. To get it out there. I'm trying to remember I can do that on my own blog -- that everything doesn't have to be light and fun all the time, because lord knows life isn't like that. Anyway, hooray for honesty, and please know that your contributions to the world mean quite a bit to people. I'm one of them!
Also, I get downright TWITCHY if things aren't in their right place. Ahh, OCD.
Well, thank you, Chris. I tend to think I little too much of the revealing on my blog, but I can't really help it. So many thoughts, so few ways to express them.
As for this particular post, I wasn't even directing the bulk of this post towards Cotton, either - I just have a really hard time with things not being where I think they should be. Or where they always are. Goes for work, too. If I go into the copy room and there are no more sticky notes in the sticky note bin, I just about lose my cool. It's bad. I bet you I'm a little OCD myself. Guess I need more therapy! :)
The poor grammar apparently extends today as well...
I will also admit I need things in their places, too. I just can't stand not having things I need easily available when I need it. No rummaging or searching for it, just what I need at my fingertips.
My current annoyance is the over-the-summer cleaning of the school, where things are moved, cleaned, and re-organized. The re-organization makes sense for the person doing it, but no one else. (board games and text books in one room, standardized tests and puppets in another? really?) I now have no idea where to find anything without a school-wide search. In addition, the box of cardboard I use mysteriously disappeared with the explanation of "maybe the cleaning guy took it". Or maybe putting it inside the garbage helped the cleaning guy along in disposing of it. Just because you don't use it does not mean no one else does. I want my cardboard in it's box next to the copy machine!! Why is it not there?
wow, phew. Apparently I need to stop drinking coffee and pop a Valium.
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