Like this:

In no particular order, the following are things that have driven me to the point of wanting to set someone on fire this week:

1. People asking me “how’s your nursing going?”
2. People looking puzzled when I answer “One year to go” when they know all too well the course is three years long and I’ve completed my third year. That’s right. I failed. “But BOTH your parents are doctors?! You shouldn’t have failed when BOTH your parents are doctors!” * smug smile * “You shouldn’t scream when I strangle you with your own intestines after I’ve gouged them out with my finger nails”.
3. Men who hate women.
4. People giving me the third degree.
5. Anyone who tells me the same thing more than once.
6. People who drive SUV’s in the Safeway car park on MY side of the road and then have the audacity to look at me with an expression that reads “You’re in MY way.” – But, I’m not. You’re driving a tank in a three metre radius of concrete.
B. People being indirect with me. If I’ve pissed you off, annoyed you, offended you, just plain right tell me. Don’t beat around the bush and pretend everything’s fluffy. I can smell you from a mile away.
f. Being the loser that I am. Although on that note, you should see what my losery skills are capable of doing in a day out in the garden. ‘Twould be impressive if you were into that kind of thing. Which, let’s face it, no one is.
10. Last one. People interrupting me when I’m trying to talk to them.

On a lighter note, in no particular order, here are some things that I like:

1. Eckhart Tolle, although not his voice. It’s a bit … smug.
2. Watching Tara do any number of retarded things.
3. Listening to Paul Simon whilst looking up at the full moon in all it’s yellow, low-to-the-horizon, giant-cheese-wheel glory.
4. Lying on my super comfy outside-couch and reading a book.
5. Sharing a Curly Wurly with Jenkins.
6. Sky Khor.
7. Children who say the darndest things. Most recently, little Bella, who, despite being only four years old knew all the smutty lyrics to a Katy Perry song.
8. All my sisters.
9. Text messages from people I don’t see enough of.

There. I’ve vented. Sorry about that, everyone. I probably should’ve kept all of that to myself … but there’s something cathartic about sharing your insignificant frustrations with the people of the world.

Hope you’re feeling better than I am when I wrote this. My shoulders are all tense. I need to chillax.

Goodnight, loyal readers.

:-[

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