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Pet Peeves

Here she is again- like a rash you can't get rid of, I'm back to annoy you for 5 minutes and then sit dormant in the back of your mind until you catch sight of me in the mirror and are once more reminded of my existence. x

Anyway, on with the show {sorry}...

Unfortunately for you, today's post is going to be filled with complaints and opinionated drivel {If you've had the pleasure of knowing me in person, you'll be well acquainted with such things x}, but you may end up relating to it more so than you thought you would. After all, who doesn't have pet peeves? Whether they're specific to your aunt Mavis always being overzealous when chewing a flapjack, or you simply hate the colour green and everyone who wears it, everyone has pet peeves and it can often be cathartic to share these with other people. {Who knows, maybe at this rate I've become a pet peeve of yours? - this is a rhetorical question. Please don't answer it}.

So, in light of my previous personal posts being surprisingly well received, I thought complaining in your general direction would once again appeal to all you nosy neighbours.

I've no idea where to start...

{disclaimer: two days have passed since I last toiled over this post and, until this morning, I was no more aware of how it would continue. I was all but ready to give up, and very surprised that I was yet to find something to complain about, until i was scrolling through Facebook and it hit me all at once (thank you, social media, for once again ruining my day). So, get ready because some of these are horrifyingly pointless things to get annoyed over}.

Firstly, the thing that sparked this sudden stream of complaints:

  • My pettiest pet peeve of them all is people who complain about their lives on Facebook {typically ending their status with the customary "x"}

Why they think it's necessary I've no idea. Now, it may be because expressing feelings is not my forte, but, last time I checked, no one wants to stop and decode your cryptic posts about how "you really have had enough *insert countless, unrelated emojis*." If you've got an issue, please discuss it with a close friend or family member (all of whom will be willing to help you, I'm sure) rather than telling all 1049 for your Facebook friends. I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that Janice from down the road rolls her eyes every time you pop up in her newsfeed. Just saying.

  • This one is slightly less trivial than attention seekers gallivanting around on Facebook, but my second complaint is about people openly force you to engage in social media debates {if you know, you know}

Unfortunately, being vegan {another 10 points to me for weaving it into yet another unrelated post}, this is something that you grow more accustomed to as time goes on and most of the time I am perfectly happy to engage in conversation {Catherine Bleach: Queen of pointing out the obvious}, but what bothers me beyond words is when people need to have the last word for the sake of keeping their own argument intact. Now, we've all been guilty of this at some point in our lives, but there are the odd few people that are so intent on being right that they consistently make you wish you'd never opened your mouth {or shared a post about vegan ice cream *cough*}, and these people just so happen to be pet peeves in people form. Although, I'm sure they're otherwise lovely.

  • Right, moving away from social media to something a little more specific: The weather {apparently I've turned into one of those lonely old women you see on the bus}.

Specifically those days that hit from the end of August to the middle of September. Y'know those overcast days when your house is freezing so you don't go anywhere without a thick sweater, but then automatically regret ever leaving your house as soon as you step out because it's actually a thousand kinds of muggy outside and your once comfortable sweater has morphed into a prison for your now melting torso?

I am not a fan of those days.

  • Now, if you didn't think things could get any more trivial than weather complaints and sticky bodies, I'm here to complain about the beach.

I absolutely adore the beach. Everything from sunbathing, long walks {apparently this is now an e-harmony advert}, and the countless puppies that get let loose to explore and say hello to every stranger who ever makes eye contact with them. However, having to put your shoes back on at the end of the day, with sand in between your toes, is possibly the most unpleasant sensation you can experience. Unfortunately for you and your feet, it gets even worse. Now, not only have your socks been invaded by little stone warriors that hang onto you with utter determination, but these little buggers also seem to travel, and so you'll be finding them everywhere {and I mean everywhere} every time you shower for the next few days.

I don't know about you, but I'm not a fan of that either.

I mean, you could just keep your shoes on whenever you go to the beach, but where's the fun in that?

  • Bizarrely, this next peeve comes about as a result of my own stupidity, or at least the fact that I tend to fall over my own feet {what a party trick to have, eh?}, and is a really pointless thing to get annoyed over, but here I am complaining about it anyway {I'm sensing a theme here}. It's those little corners in your house that jut out just enough for you to stub your toe on when you're in a rush.

  • Now, we've all stubbed toes before and we all know that it is a pain like no other. I've been kicked by horses; had my arm almost ripped out its socket by a 1 tonne bell {campanology: it's probably easier for both of us if you google it}; and I've been forced to listen to One Direction on a 4 hour car journey, and yet nothing compares to getting out the shower and smashing your toe on the side of the bath. You may have lived in your house all your life, and yet it still finds ways to catch you out. Additionally, it seems as though your little toe always has to pay the price. {No wonder it went wee wee wee all the way home}.

  • Anyway, I'll leave you today with one last pet peeve to ponder. Although, I'll need to set the scene for this one. So, here goes:

You're sat at home/at a friends house/in bush with that lovely drunk who always calls you Miranda (you're still too scared to ask him why), and you're having a wonderful time listening to music. It's not long before an old favourite comes on and you confidently start screeching along to the lyrics. Next thing you know, the chorus hits and that kind old drunk points out that ABBA never, in fact, sang "feel the beat from the tangerine" and the fact that you ever thought so is completely stupid. This scenario, and all those like it, are major pet peeves of mine {and so are the people who think it's okay to crush your spirit by correcting you mid squawk}. Can't we all just sing along together? Whether you're feeling the beat from the tambourine, tangerine, margarine, or any other '-rine' you can think of, it doesn't matter. So, people that make a habit of calling you out really get my goat.Congratulations! You've made it to the end of a post that is now much longer than I expected it to be {turns out, I have plenty of things to complain about}. So, I'll cut it off here, but there's plenty more where that came from, and so I may just throw more relatable content like this in your direction in the future {I'm sorry in advance}.So, if this one hasn't scared you off, then I'll see you soon, baboons x{P.s. I promise, despite all these niggling complaints, that I'm actually a nice person x}
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