Everyone in the row of my open floor plan at work is a man now. I don't mean anyone in my row used to be a chick and now they're a man, but of course I can't know everything about my coworkers. Maybe I have a whole Chaz Bono sitch over here and don't know it.
The point is, the other day I turned to all of them. "Do any of you say your wife is your best friend? If so, I abhor you."
My boss was thoughtful. "My wife IS my best friend, but I'd never say that cause it's gross," he said.
"EXACTLY," I said. "It bugs me."
My boss was thoughtful again. "On the other hand, June, everything bugs you. Your irk list is quite long."
Well, he has a point, there. I tried to think of everything that irks me and the list was so extensive that I grew bored with myself. "I'll bet people who've read my blog awhile could come up with quite a list," I said, and that is when I got inspired to ask you to list everything you can think of that has ever bugged me since you started reading me. I cannot wait to see it all laid out in black and white.
I've always been irritated easily. When I was a toddler, I used to say to my grandmother, "Gramma, that gets on my nerves." I was all huffy in my onesie. "You're too young to have nerves," she'd say.
So, go.
(Oh, and Iris left a giant black bird in the hall, dead, thank god. There is a sweet new nest of pee! pee! pee! baby birds in my back yard, in the birdhouse one of my TinyTown friends gave me, and if she Sylvesters up the pole of that bird house Ima beat that blind cat senseless.)
Love,
June
