It's The Little Things

On this second Saturday of March, I've come across a few things that have annoyed me over the last few weeks.  In no particular order:

Why does our chocolate lab crap in an eight foot long straight line, instead of a neat little pile?  Does he think that it's going to get him?

The guy at the grocery store that insists on helping you load your groceries into your car and then inevitably smashes your bread?  This is after he spots you from across the parking lot and sprints towards you like a zombie is going after his last meal and shouts at you "LET.ME.HELP.YOU!!!!!"  Um, no.  Thanks.  And even better when I say, don't worry, I've got it...he shames me and says "your on your own!"

The shitstorm that was left after our boss was angry-mobbed out the door.  Honey, did you do any work at all?  EVER?  Let's not forget the lies to our faces, the tiptoeing out the door in the middle of the day, and the sheer disappointment we all had we weren't in the room when it happened.

Being invited to a shower for a second child, just because it's the opposite sex.  (Note, this has happened multiple times over the course of a year.)  Just do what we did...dress up little Josie in her brothers onesie and call it a day.

The mud season.  Honestly, our backyard looks like a family of pigs have taken up residence.  And our black lab finds it necessary to do hot laps around the garage only to sit next you and piss on the driveway.

The fact that I have unfollowed, but not unfriended, at least a dozen people on Facebook because of their continual bitching, moaning, and lying.  What bothers me more is I am messed in the head because I think it's just better to unfollow them then to deal with the drama that will unfold with 90 days left before graduation.

Getting a phone call to do the shit jobs and apparently none of my siblings can do.  Honestly, I'm really not into picking up 10,000 acorns for my brother.

The realization that it has taken me years and a chance encounter of a book synopsis that someone in my life is a narcissist.

The douchebag(s) that decided it's ok to call in bomb threats.  I don't care if you are 16.  You need help, and possibly an ass whooping.

Grocery shopping and not knowing what the hell to cook.  You can only have spaghetti or burgers so many times in a month.

The fact that I want to write, I know I can write, and have the desire to write the next great novel, but my mind is mush and all my ideas suck.

By all means, feel free to share your list.  I could use some spark.