Things That Piss Me Off (part like, a hundred)

When I'm reading a book (I have a lot of peeves regarding me and books) don't ask me what I'm reading. I don't have my book with me in the hopes that you'll comment on it. I have my book with me because I want to fucking read it. When you ask me what I'm reading, I have to either show you the cover, or actually tell you. The fact that I have to do either of those things infuriates me. Here are my reasons why:

If I show or tell you and then continue to read it, you will either say something like "oh I've never heard of it", "oh cool, is it any good?", "I don't know that author" or my least favorite question ever: "what's it about?" When you do this, I am left with no choice but to engage in conversation with you. This conversation will in no way be entertaining, intelligent, insightful, or enjoyable for me whatsoever. You have already presented me with more than enough facts for me to determine that you're a fucking idiot. When a person has something in front of them that can command their attention, and they are allowing it to, this generally means they do not want their attention diverted. By asking stupid questions, "what's it about?", you are diverting their attention. If that book was a person that I was in discussion with, and you waltzed up and just started asking me what we were talking about without politely interrupting and excusing yourself for doing so, both the individual I was speaking to and myself would consider you rude, impertinent, and impolite. Also, a douche.

Don't be a douche.

If I do answer your question and you are familiar with the book, there is no need for you to say anything else. Because, again, I am not looking to have a conversation with you. If you do feel the need to further comment, please always bear in mind that from that point on I am killing you in my head. Slowly. Every word you say is another drop of water on your forehead, another electric shock, another bamboo shoot under your nails. If you ever say the words "I approve" I immediately lose all respect for you as a human being, and my perception of your intelligence goes from wherever it may be at this point in our relationship straight down to zero. In fact, everything you've done to garner favor in my book, whether you're aware of it or not, vanishes. Just, fucking, vanishes. You must begin again. You must start slowly. (That, is a literary reference. It is paraphrased, so I have chosen not to use quotation marks.)

I will direct you to a previous paragraph, in fact the first paragraph, and to a sentence, the second sentence to be precise, and the end of that sentence, to be very precise: "in the hopes that you'll comment on it." I feel like I really need to drive this home. The fact that you approve of the book I am reading is literally worthless to me. You're opinion, of my taste in literature, has. No. Worth to me.

Here are my answers to your stupid fucking questions that I don't care to answer. Please commit them to memory so that in future, we will not have to have this completely pointless and useless waste of my goddamn time:

You: Oh I've never heard of it.
Me: (noncommittal grunt)

You: Oh cool, is it any good?
Me: (noncommittal grunt)

You: I don't know that author.
Me: (noncommittal grunt)

You: What's it about?
Me: (noncommittal grunt)

Do you see a pattern emerging?

If there is a book present, that book is always more important to me than you.


I'm a very angry person.

See how much more majestic this is than you? Remember that.  This is the Trinity College Library, motherfucker. And it is not fucking around.

Sunday Night Reflections

The thing about work that I think irks me the most, well second most because one thing in particular infuriates me so much sometimes I grind my teeth in my sleep over it, is the insincerity. I'm a very dry, sarcastic person. Obviously I'm aware of this. But if someone is exceeding at something that they previously have not been, I make it a point to be as sincere as possible when complimenting them on it. Or, if they're just doing a good job in general I like to be supportive to encourage more of this behavior. The other day at work, I was working in an area that I hadn't been in at all that day and two supervisors were standing near by chatting. They saw me begin work, chatted briefly a bit more, and than made very sardonic comments pertaining to what I was doing. "Storm over here, finally getting some work done." "Yeah Storm, jeez just standing around all day?"

I love sarcasm. It's one of my favorite forms of humour. But for god's sake: read your frickin' audience.

That is unprofessional, it makes me look like a lazy, incompetent employee, and it makes you look bad for putting someone like me in that position. And not just if the store is open and customers can hear you, but to other employees as well. Just be professional. There is a time and a place for being dry, and it is not when an employee has been working hard her entire shift but you haven't seen it so you think it's all joke and fun time. Had you been there with me my entire shift, while I was climbing ladders and sweating and lifting heavy objects and generally doing what I can to perform my job duties to the best of my abilities, than I would not mind your sarcastic and derisive comments at all. I would be humored by them and I would laugh and joke back with you.  Because I would know you were just joking. Do not just clock in and immediately start jokingly critisizing my work and my work ethic. That feels like a personal attack to me and it only makes me want to cause you physical harm.

In unrelated news, I bought a pair of prescription sunglasses today. I'm excited for their arrival. In a few short weeks, I'll be able to protect my eyes from the sun and I won't have to worry about my eyes getting tired from my cheap contacts because I can't afford the super wet and moist ones. More to come when they get here.

Did I mention that we recently sold my piano to a friend of ours? Well we did. I was really happy about it too, thinking we had given it to a good home and if at some point in the future I wanted that particular one back we could just call up our friend. Turns out, no. That future is not to be. Our friend had in his truck and he wanted to use a forklift to get it back out, and he gets the lift positioned under the piano, then realizes he's going to need to move his truck to get the piano out without incident. And I tuned (pun) out a little bit but somehow the piano straight up fell out of his truck.

And broke into a bunch of tiny pieces. Ivory keys and gold plating and all.

I am very sad/angry about this.

Also, (and this is only a footnote because I'll get crazy emotional if I write about this) Ray Bradbury passed away June 5th in his sleep. He was 91. And I'm devastated over it, and every time I think about it I'll get that tight feeling in my chest like when you wrap a string around the tip of your finger and it starts to go numb because you're cutting off the circulation and my eyes will prickle, just a tiny bit. Nothing obvious. But it will happen.