Things That Drive Me Crazy
My girls love the music of Francesca Battistelli, especially her song “This is the Stuff” where she lists some “stuff” that drives her crazy. I have to admit, it’s a catchy song and I often find myself singing along to it with my girls. Of course, they sound better than me. So does Francesca.
The song does get you thinking, though, about the things that drive you crazy. Here’s some of mine:
- Slow drivers. The nature of my day job is that I’m always going somewhere and I have to stay on schedule. Slow drivers throw me off schedule. Not good.
- Dudes with their pants falling down. I’m sorry, but it has to rank up there with one of the dumbest fads to come down the road. Dumber than bell bottoms, dumber than leg warmers, dumber even than wearing pajamas in public.
- Dudes in skinny jeans. Why do guys with skinny legs want to make their legs look even skinnier? And they have to be uncomfortable. C’mon.
- People who don’t control their dogs. I like dogs. I do. But when I walk into a home and get licked to death, scratched, barked at, slobbered on . . . enough is enough.
- People who walk their dog off the leash. I know some feel strongly about this but it’s a city ordinance. Dogs have to be on a leash at all times. Your dog may be your best friend but it isn’t above the law.
- Self check-out lines. I like them; I use them. They’re fast and convenient. But, really, I’m saving the store money by doing their job for them, shouldn’t I get some kind of discount for that?
- Boy racers and their “fast and furious” clunkers. Really, you have nothing better to spend your hard-earned money on than aftermarket modifications to a car that’s already seen better days? They must have the same problem in England because I found this British definition on urbandictionary.com:
“Boy racer . . . Someone who thinks its clever to spend £5,000 tarting up a £50 piece of crap that is one MOT away from the junk yard, fit it with a stereo pumping out more power than the engine, remove the suspension, destroying what little handling ability it had, and a set of wheels that look like rejects for the London Eye. The exhaust must look like it’s been robbed off an F15 Eagle. I have yet to find out what mod they do to the drivers seat to make them all drive canted over to the left like their spine is buggered.”
That’s it for now. But the point is this, despite all those little things that drive me crazy every day, the annoyances, the inconveniences, the things that just get under my skin, I’m so blessed. I need to spend more time remembering that and less time squirming over those silly things that drive me crazy.