A List of Hates

I try (in more recent years) not to be entirely negative. A lot of you who are closer to me will admit that I am usually a happy person but I do have a cynical outlook on much of life, probably caused by being an overachiever but never really achieving anything tangible or impressive. I expect a lot sometimes, but usually only from the things I put a good amount of effort into on my own, which this August are many things, with few results.

In the spirit of not really revealing anything important, I’ve compiled a short list of a few petty things that bother me (and as such, don’t fall into the above-described category), because you care.
  • Reposting stupid pictures that ‘work’ for your comments and faves on Flickr. Wow, you’re amazing. You took three good shots in your life. Stop reposting them. After everyone on your contacts list have seen them a billion times, and noticed you have nothing else to contribute, they’re bound to think your ‘talent’ is simply flash-in-the-pan. You’re really just making yourself look boring when you embrace the three creative things you’ve ever done and do not work to build upon them. You clearly have the potential, why not make use of it?
  • Claiming that your job is “the hardest job in the whole world”. Until you’ve worked every job in the whole world, you cannot make this statement truthfully.
  • Criss Angel’s overuse of the word ’employ’. Just say ‘use’. You have millions of dollars, you don’t need to impress anyone with a two-syllable word.
  • Cat hair.
  • The way my mouth has been hurting in different ways all week, although that could be attributed to something more important, so maybe it doesn’t belong on this list.
  • Not expecting that all humans are hypocrites in even one way.
  • The fact that I once had to draw a diagram for someone to understand how what he was doing was wrong.
  • Having to wear jeans on days in August where it “Feels like 42 degrees celsius” according to the weather network.
  • Making a big deal over things that will change in seven seconds anyway via an email from some higher authority.
  • Finding a fucking ant crawling on my toe just a second ago before I squished it.
Anyway, I don’t care. Except about the ant. What was that guy’s problem?

About Nikki

I've been writing since I was in kindergarten where I Crayola-markered an epic tale of a tiger and a balloon on a stack of lined papers folded into a booklet and stapled along the edge (carefully, and by my teacher). I love DIY, sewing, folksy music, animals and getting out to look at and listen to nature.
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