Things That Terrify, Worry or Just Generally Annoy Me
- Public restrooms.
- The public.
- Sudden (or gradual) financial ruin.
The scariest horror movie is the one in which the protagonist, played by me, is scraping by, making futile student loan payments and then suddenly (or over the course of 15 to 20 years), I’m Oliver Twist.
And having hot flashes.
I don’t want to talk about this anymore.
- Hot flashes.
- Not having immediate access to avocados.
Can you imagine?
- Governing bodies which permit the cessation of certain essential government functions without end or political consequence, and which utilize such permissions as mere pawns for petty negotiations, resulting in damage to the livelihood and threatening the safety of, its citizens.
All the while those with such permission continue to receive their government-issued pay without interruption.
- My skin in 10 years.
- The fact that when I take my dogs for a walk we have the best conversations and it doesn’t occur to me to stop talking to them when we pass others on the street.
- Food poisoning.
But not my own food poisoning— I survived a plate of fried zucchini soaked in a bad batch of ranch dressing at the Stuart ***ersons on ***set Ave., in ******* CA, in 199*, but whatever. That was just another day spent in the bathroom.
As a vegan, I fear accidentally poisoning an entire group of very judgmental omnivores* with some tainted greens, thereby giving them a deeply personal — albeit stupid — argument against basing an entire diet on plants.
*Of course, assuming it was just a mild bout of 24-hour food poisoning, there might be a small part of me that finds their — very brief and modest suffering — enjoyable. But that part of me is an asshole.
- Fascists, racist, sadists, lobbyists and nudists.
- Technology and the people who lovingly embrace it like THEY’VE NEVER EVEN SEEN A SCI-FI MOVIE.
The fools!! They’re playing right into Alexa’s creepy little (virtual) hands!
<stares blankly into space…unplugs Alexa>
- I survive into my 70’s only to discover that my insides are a wet bag of Mardi Gras garbage because I ate too many fried foods and there’s nothing medical science can do for me. I’m left to bemoan my food-based hedonism until my husband disconnects the life support and my final words are, “What I wouldn’t give for some fried zucchini.”
- Public speaking followed by mandatory karaoke.
- That I’m not funny, but merely “quirky,” “cute,” or “sometimes uses punctuation.” Sadly, on the rare occasion I reread my previous posts, I think I’ve managed, “has access to the Internet.”
- Meat-eaters (please disregard this one if you were previously considering clapping).
- After years of working from home, I’ve spent so much time by myself that I actually lose the ability to interact with others in a non-babble/giggle/gurgle sort of way. The few intelligible words I am able to utter are odd references to 40 year-old sitcoms because my only friend is whatever complete series they have on Netflix.
- Being left alone with a party-sized bag of Fritos.
- On an empathy scale, wherein 1 is the empathetic equivalent of a dumpster filled with moldy turds, and 10 is the supramarginal gyrus portion of an exposed cerebral cortex watching The Green Mile, anyone who scores below a 6 (or those who avoid making eye contact with a homeless person purely out of guilt for not having any cash, but are not okay with the separating of immigrant children from their parents).
- Plastic straws.
- Anyone who judges an entire generation based on personal anecdote or pop culture stereotypes. Especially when generations are categorized by somewhat arbitrary delineations of birthdates (spanning anywhere from a 10-to-25 year period of time, that in no way accounts for the highly subjective, personal experience of its alleged members).
As a Gen X-er I say, “Pffft…Whatever.”
- Drinking too much, writing a post, sporadically pressing the caps lock key, and drunkenly hitting publish. Resulting in: A POST vERY sIMILar To ThIS One.
- Greenhouse gases.
- My neighbors when we both pull into our driveways at the same time and they’re being neighborly and wanna chat.
That’s what I get for leaving the house.
And for coming back.
- Realizing that all that personal growth advice on the Internet is actually onto something and the only reason I’m not happier, wealthier, and taller before 5 am is because I’m annoyingly grounded in objective reality.