Let me get something straight right from the beginning. I’m not talking about the big things that change your life, although I continue to battle those challenges, too. I’m talking about those little annoyances that really shouldn’t bother you at all, but that somehow manage to ruin your day. Like when you have your turning signal on, SIGNALING that you are ready to enter a parking space and Ms. Moron slithers right into the space you have been patiently waiting to enter. You try to reason with the unreasonable wretch, but she whips her hair around and says, “It has always been and it will always be all about me – and MY wants – and MY needs. Nothing you say will make that change. Deal with it!”
Or how about the line game? You’ve probably played it yourself. I play it all the time. I pick a line at the bank or the grocery store that I think might take a reasonable period of time, and because of all the times I have failed miserably at picking the right lane, even after checking out my competition, I end up looking as if I am playing a role on a television show called, Cosmic Joke. How is it that I always always always pick the wrong lane?
Seriously, HOW does that happen? I see people standing in several super store lanes with carts filled to the max, and I finally locate one where one woman stands – one little old woman – with only 3 items! What luck! So I stand in that lane, but, here is what happens. Rod Serling shows up, visiting from the afterlife. The cameras roll and we see the woman pay for her television set, microwave, and futon with PENNIES! And she doesn’t even hold the pennies in a bag. She rummages through several pockets, purses, and bags to find those precious coins. And then she has the audacity to smile sweetly at me and apologize. “I’m sorry, Honey, I know they’re in here somewhere.”
I want to tell her to vigorously shake her head. Maybe several thousand of them will come loose. Time vanishes – again. This little cosmic joke television program comes with some pretty fancy editing skills as I watch the passage of time whiz by in a blur while everyone in all the lines around me disappears. My only desire – in that moment – is to throw the woman and all her pennies into the nearest fountain.
Where else don’t I succeed? Throwing things in the trash. You heard me right, and I know this must happen to other people too. Don’t you just hate it when you throw something in the garbage and it jumps back out at you? Or does that happen to just me? Seriously, I could be standing directly above my garbage can, drop something into it, and it would jump back out at me. Every single time – even when it is empty!
As a conscientious get-to-the-bottom of these types of situations woman, I research online for help with this problem, but for some reason, I can’t come up with a clue as to what I should enter into the search engine. How can I get the results I seek? I try, “what to do when trash refuses to accept garbage,” and all I get is a bunch of blog sites that ask, “What does refuse mean?” or “Define refuse at Dictionary.com.”
I KNOW WHAT REF– USE MEANS, SEARCH ENGINE! – I just want to find out why my trash can refuses to accept my garbage. In exasperation, I look at my garbage receptacle. “Is my garbage not trashy enough for you?” Yes, my trash has now become a relatable entity. I scream and yell at it. “I’ll show YOU, Mr. Trash Can. You just watch. I’m going to let the trash pile up on the floor next to you, because I don’t care anymore. Your sole purpose is to collect trash and I have stolen your purpose. I HOPE YOU FEEL INEPT!” I grew up Catholic, so I know how to inject guilt into anything. (Well, that’s one small success.)
Trash isn’t the only place I feel unsuccessful, though. My bath towels have minds of their own too. Unless I hold my towel in a vice-like grip, it always gets tangled in my hands, falls, and laughs at me as it lands in whatever water is left at the bottom of my shower. What was supposed to be an invigorating shower has now been ruined. YOU MISERABLE RAG! (yes, I talk to my towels, too), because now I have to wrap myself in wetness and step into a bathroom with a shivering temperature of 60º! Why? Because I’M TRYING TO SAVE MONEY BY KEEPING THE THERMOSTAT DOWN, STUPID TOWEL!
Success is on the horizon though, because I’m thinking of wrapping all of my garbage in wet towels and throwing it at the next person who takes my parking space or pays for expensive items with pennies. That’ll show everybody and all kinds of inanimate objects to mess with me!
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