I'm hungover and cranky today. Had a little too much wine last night and not quite enough water, so not only am I dehydrated, my sleep was riddled with all sorts of funky drunky dreams. I turned my Prius into a succulent at one point; I couldn't find where to take a test in my high school and I didn't have a #2 pencil or a Scan-tron. So I'm tired from thinking too much all night and although I leave for vacation in 4 days, I just want to complain about some things that have been building up lately.
Guys with ponytails. I don't know what it is about this recently, but it makes my skin crawl. I want nothing more than to sneak up behind them with a big pair of scissors and emancipate them from Dungeons and Dragons world and thrust them into the 21st century. My work is crawling with these guys.
People who don't flush. Okay seriously, this should not ever, ever be an issue unless there is a problem with the plumbing. Even if you're missing both of your arms, you could at least kick the handle with your foot. But see, I know you have arms because you leave evidence behind of your ability to wipe. Bathroom bastard.
Morning chitchat. Call me whatever mean name you want, but I don't really even like to say good morning to anyone until I've had some time to get settled at my desk and wake up a bit. This usually means I'd prefer radio silence until about 1 p.m.
The arsehats who open the blinds in the conference room by my cube. People, I know the view of the traintracks and Fry's is nice, but when you open the blinds in there, it sends a stream of blinding sunlight across my desk—right in the middle of my laptop screen. You are the reason I can no longer read street signs when driving at night.
To go boxes in the cafeteria. If I say "it's for here" that means I want a plate. Not everyone enjoys unnecesarily filling landfills with plastic containers.
Okay, I'm done. I promise my next post will be all happy happy joy joy about Italy and Greece. In the meantime, why don't you tell me what's bugging you?