Friday, December 11, 2015

Get Off My Lawn!

I don’t know about you, but I’m growing increasingly less tolerant as the years go by. My immunity to irritation has been reduced to near nothing. Case in point, right now, this very minute, there’s a coworker, who happens to be a fairly pleasant person, eating an apple very loudly a couple desks away. I’d like to throw her, and her apple, through the third story window. But I won’t. I believe that’s a fireable offense.

I didn’t plan to turn into a crotchety old man, it’s just sort of happening. A friend of mine says
40-something is the new 70-something. I think he might be right.

I don’t think it was any one thing that started me down this path. It was probably a cumulative combination of stuff that piled up over the years.

As far as I can tell, here are some of the main reasons for my plummeting patience:

  • Millennials and their sense of entitlement. Here’s a hot tip – the world doesn’t owe you shit. Damn meddling kids.
  • The recently acquired ability of anybody with an opinion, no matter how biased or boneheaded, to virally share their viewpoints. And yes, I do see the irony in that statement coming from a guy who writes an online blog.
  • Politics. And overly-political people.
  • The gradual disappearance of personal space. Seriously, everywhere you go, there’s somebody already there. There’s no more room people! Stop breeding! (At least some of you.)
  • Shitty music.
  • The steady stream of depressing news. There’s a new mass disaster almost every week. It wears on the soul. A hard outer shell starts to form. Before you know it, you’re lumping everybody into the same people-suck pile. It’s not fair to the good ones.
  • The Kardashians.

That cabin in the woods miles away from everything looks a little better every day. So peaceful. There’s a short list of people I’d like to take with me. And there will be dogs at this cabin. Dogs are nice.

But alas, such a place doesn’t exist. Yet. And until that cabin is move-in ready, I’ll try really hard to be a little more tolerant.

For now, get off my lawn. I need some space. And please chew with your mouth shut.

Happy Holidays!

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