Dear Diary …
Do you ever have those moments in your life where you are convinced that you are being set up, and that somehow, somewhere people are watching you and just laughing away?
Here’s what I mean by that … like I feel as if every day of my life my wife plays a game with me called “Hide the Remote.”
We got three remotes in the living room, and every day when I came home from work … one of ‘em is missing. Different one every day … sometimes it’s the little white one. Next day it’s the big white one. Day three it’ll be the black one. The one thing that remains consistent, is that one of them is missing.
I think I’m gettin’ set up here, because every day I’m on my hands and knees like an idiot … looking under couches … digging through seat cushions … generally just wandering around like a lost little moron. So I’m convinced … there’s a hidden nanny cam somewhere in that room, and my wife is watchin’ me and havin’ a laugh!
There’s no reason for a remote to be lost every day. I mean the remote sits in one place … on the table next to the couch. You pick it up to use it, and then you put it back down when you’re done. There’s is never a time where it should be in a basket in the corner of the room under a pillow unless it’s put there on purpose!
That’s it … I’m just gonna have to rip the heads off all the kids’ stuffed animals until I find the hidden camera! You made me do this!
OK … moving on Diary … this is definitely going to fall under the category of “diva behavior,” but I don’t care, because I don’t think it’s too much to ask that we as humans all agree that we should never be “poop partners.”
When I’m in the bathroom at work … there are two stalls … and there is nothing worse than being in there and minding your own business and then having somebody come into that bathroom, plop down into the stall next to you, and immediately become your poop partner.
What we are doing is gross. It should NEVER be in the company of others, and yet now we are only separated by about six inches and a thin plastic barrier. I don’t like this one bit!
And I know you’re saying … it’s a public restroom and there are two stalls, but I don’t care. Nobody under their own free will should actually use that second stall when the first is occupied unless it’s DIRE emergency!
If I walk into the bathroom and see a pair of feet … I turn around and come back later when they’re gone. I refuse to be your poop partner!
But these people got no filter. They also got no volume control. Good Lord … there’s another pair of shoes here next to you, I don’t need to hear all your awful sound effects. If you’re gonna force yourself on me like this, you gotta at least keep it down man. This is already an awful experience, now you’re just making it WAY worse!
It’s called “dignity,” can we at least preserve it a tiny bit here?
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.