Yesterday, I asked you to list all the things you could think of that irritated me.
Turns out I'm kind of fussy.
Oh, your list killed me, is what it did. God, what I bitch I am. Among the items you listed were:
- People coming to my workspace and saying, "Knock knock!" Ugh. Stop it. Stop.it.
- My coworker who'd shake her sugar packet 490 times. THE WHOLE THING IS SUGAR. YOU DON'T HAVE TO MIX IT UP.
- Gwynneth Paltrow.
- When people extend their fingers to pantomime being on the phone. No one has held the phone that way, well, ever, but no one has held a receiver since 1999.
- Everyday one word when it doesn't need to be. What makes me the biggest bitch in town is sometimes people write, "I read you everyday!" and I get irked rather than thinking, Gee, that's nice. Reading me every space day.
I am horrific.
In other news about my horrificity, I forgot Edsel's birthday.
I KNOW! Yesterday Ned and I screamed off to the old movie theater we like, where they were playing The Blues Brothers. I hadn't seen it since I went to the Quad Theater in my home town and watched it with my dippy 9th-grade friends. I remember everyone loving it and me secretly thinking, Eh. Too much music.
This time I saw it and said, Wow, all the music in this is pretty great. So there you go. See how I've matured? Obviously.
That fourplex theater in my home town was so successful they added more theaters. And do you know what they called it? Do you?
The Quad 8. You will be shocked to learn that this...irked me.
The Quad 8. I'm no mathlete, but that bugged even me. And you know I'm pretty even-keeled.
MY POINT IS, Ned and I returned to my house after and we were in here, in the computer room, and as I was talking to him I saw the calendar behind him and it read "Edsel, 4."
"OH MY GOD I FORGOT MY OWN DOG'S BIRTHDAY!" I screeched. "Come here, Edsel. Oh, come here, sweet boy." Naturally he bounded in here like I was dressed in beef.
"I really think he's fine," said Ned, who is a boy. "You can get him a nice...something and he'll think it's his birthday that day." True, although I have $21 in checking right now. Which I have to stretch out for five days. Why am I always the Little Match Girl?
So maybe Edsel will think his birthday is the 15th. And maybe his birthday IS the 15th. I think I just made it up, the date, anyway.
Oh, and finally, I lost my renters. They found another place. I'd kept them abreast of my desperate search for a new place but they beat me to finding a place. Yesterday there was a new listing on Zillow, for the cutest little dollhouse-looking place but with actual square footage. They asked could I come at 11:00 to look at it but I was at work. I drove over there right at 5:00, and the streets were tree-lined with actual real mature trees (they were all reading The Wall Street Journal) and pretty houses, and we were near the lake, and I swear to God two boys were walking home with fishing poles, like I was in a Norman Rockwell painting.
The house was even cuter in person, with a wood fence in back. I called the agency from the front yard.
"Ma'am, the place has already been taken by a couple who saw it earlier today."
It'd been on the market for one day. Not even that. And it was $500 less than the last place we'd like. If I had time to Google and download and upload my losing horn, I would. But you know I have losing horn right now on my insides.
That is all I have to tell you.
Irkedly,
June
P.S. No one mentioned when I used to sit by the door to the back steps at work, and people would fail to punch in the correct three-digit code to the door. So all day, click click THUMP, when the door wouldn't open. Click click THUMP. OH MY GOD IT'S THREE DIGITS HOW HARD IS IT.
Reirkedly,
June
