People are weird. Humaning is hard. It's amazing that we all have very similar peeves, but for some reason, society has taught us that the grown-up thing to do is suck it up and pretend that all is well.
Here are 3 things that we all encounter but can't talk about, lest we be punished, shunned, or thought to be just plain weird institutionalized:
Hating Our Jobs.
I know, like 2% of the population loves their jobs. I'm also about 99% sure that 2% consists of CEOs, hackers, and porn stars.
For the rest of us, it may not be the job we hate so much as someone we're forced to work with on a daily basis, customers or clients we get stuck with consistently, or the fact that we'd rather be naked at home watching Netflix while drowning out the world with vodka and double-stacked Oreos. But alas, bills need to be paid, and Netflix, vodka, and Oreos cost money.
The new American dream. 'Murica.
But in the Internet age, where everyone we've ever met in our lifetime is lurking somewhere long-forgotten on our Facebook friend's list, we can't share our disdain for getting up at the butt-crack of dawn and going to a job that it slowly killing our souls. We can't publicly vent about an asshole manager or that mentally-deficit customer that's constantly stalking our cubicle, counter, or other place of business. We can't "out" shady business practices or even lament on a bad day that, well, we're having a shitty day.
Why?
Because Netflix, vodka, and Oreos cost money, and places of business like to keep their image squeaky-clean so that they can continue to make money. People who don't fall in line and function like good little worker bees hurt the bottom line. Plus, we're all idiots, and somewhere in each of our original job applications are the words, "I live for *insert business purpose,*" because "I like electricity and running water and I need to fund my Netflix addiction" wouldn't sound very good on a job application.
It's always been my dream to... you know what? I'm good.
Being Annoyed By Our Own Kids.
Alright so, before this gets copy/pasted somewhere to use against me, anyone who knows me knows that my girls are my entire world. Most parents would agree that their kids are the absolute center of their universe; that they would make any sacrifice, take any bullet, or put up with any level of crap job to take care of their kids, keep them safe, and make sure that they're at least mostly happy. And then some. That's just part of parenthood.
Why is it, then, that there's such a stigma surrounding the vocalization that kids can be - and usually are - maddeningly obnoxious? When you read an article or story about kids, it's always about how kiddo was having a bad day and there was some kind of dilemma, but then the parent came up with some imaginative way to turn their demon-spawn back into the cuddly little bundle of joy the parent knew was under there all along.
Those parents are full of dookie, is all I'm saying.
You don't read about that 8-hour road trip where Junior spewed split-pea soup, spun his head 180 degrees and screamed the entire time because I want McDonald's! You don't read about the Mom who had to enforce a time-out for herself and her child, because so help me if you throw one more toy I'm going to rip my hair out and run screaming down the street like a hairless lunatic. You don't read about the enterprising Dad who decided to answer his 2-year-old's endless stream of "but why's" with Star Trek references and Big Bang Theory quotes in an attempt to dear God, just shut.up. for five. minutes.
No, because you have Internet know-it-alls who don't have kids of their own and truly believe that children are always 100% adorable. You can't appeal to these people with logic, explaining that being annoyed with your kid every once in a while doesn't mean you don't love them, or that you're some kind of monster who doesn't appreciate the wondrous gift of life that has been bestowed upon you. You can't make them understand that those moments when you have to separate yourself from Junior long enough to re-center yourself are part of the reason that you love that little devil so much; you can appreciate the angel side of your child because you've seen the depths of Hell, and survived.
Also, for the love of God, some people simply don't have any sens of humor whatsoever. When I threaten to hang my girls from the ceiling fan by their toes if they don't knock off their shenanigans, it's a JOKE. I know it, they know it. The support beam that holds up the ceiling fan obviously isn't structurally strong enough to hold the weight of the fan, plus two pre-teens, even if I balance them equally. Geez.
Random Sociopathic Thoughts.
I know what you're thinking - but Sandra, that was one time and I'm completely rehabilitated.
...and the records were sealed. How did you possibly... I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about.
So you're sitting there looking at the computer/tablet/phone screen appalled and offended - but look me in the eyes (let's pretend, I guess), and tell me that you've NEVER had anything along the lines of the following thoughts:
- I wonder what would happen if I just punched you in the face right now. Just, boof. You wouldn't even see it coming;
- Oh, Mr. Lamborghini 'gonna cut me off like I don't matter. You think you're better than me, Mr. Lamborghini, in your fancy car? Bet you wouldn't be so smug if I lit that mother f*cker on fire and made you watch;
- I wonder if you'd be more willing to take this *defective item* back if I shoved it up your bunghole;
Okay well, those are all more reactionary than random, but I'm sure you catch my drift. We've all wanted to throat-punch, drop-kick, or otherwise assault another human being at some point in our lives, sometimes for a reason and sometimes because we're stricken with momentary crazy - but we don't.
To clarify - I am not by any means saying that any of you should act on these impulses.**
The point is, we all have these thoughts, and we don't follow through on them because we're sane, responsible people - but why is it so weird to admit that we have these thoughts when we all have them?
Ooooh. Okay.
**This post is a satirical opinion-piece only, and not to be taken as serious medical or mental advice. Sandra is NOT a licensed professional in any respect and therefore relinquishes any responsibility for face-punches, burning luxury cars, or foreign bunghole objects.
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