Short Bitch List # 427

Short Bitch List # 427

3 Things that Bug Me Now


I haven’t given myself the ultimate pleasure of writing a bitch list lately; maybe I’ve been too busy or maybe my life’s been too good lately, but I feel like something is missing whenever I don’t take the time to count the things that I am ungrateful for. (Yes, you can call me the anti-spirit of Thanksgiving if you really feel like it, but you wouldn’t be quite accurate—I also count my blessings on alternate Tuesdays around 4:20.)

 

I don’t think I’m the only one, but I just feel better whenever I purge myself of all the little shit thangs that drag me down. Here’s a short list of the latest things that are bothering me because I know that despite everything you say and do, you really care deeply about my small gripes and meaningless complaints.

 

1.     Shitty People. I hate spending time with people that I honestly don’t give a shit about and who honestly don’t give a shit about me. These people come in all forms and all shapes and sizes; I dislike more based on their personalities and major character flaws. Right now, compulsive liars, egotistical maniacs without talent, and bitches rank high on my list of people that I would rather not spend time with. If you happen to fall into one of those categories, don’t take it personally when I don’t spend oodles of time with you.

2.     Drizzling Rain. I am already tired of the rain. I know there is little I can do about it, and that I should be used to raindrops because I’m a Northwest native, but I’m not. Even singing “Singing in the Rain” when I’m walking outside in the rain doesn’t cheer me up any more. (On the off-chance that someone reading this has access to one of those new-fangled weather weapon machines, please program the weather to less rain in the Pacific Northwest for me.)

3.         Bad Hair. I don’t mean your bad hair; I mean mine. No matter what I do and how hard I try, I’ll never have the perfect Farrah Fawcett hairdo and it’s bringing me down, man. (I’m terrified that my secret mission to single-handedly resurrect the Farrah Fawcett hairdo has failed and have been informed by more than one helpful source that a perm might be my only option. Deep down inside, I feel like such a failure as a woman because of the lameness of my hair, but am confident that I will somehow survive the trauma.)

 

Feel free to add your own meaningless complaints and gripes because I care.

 

Image Courtesy of flickr user: perpetualplum.