Annoyance


Shows every night at 5 and 8pm. Matinees on weekends.

Shows every night of the week. Matinees on weekends.

The little kid upstairs has been running laps all morning. Back and forth. Back and forth. I’m not even sure it is a human child based on the weight and number of footfalls: maybe a small elephant or some kind of giant centipede. Perhaps there is an epic, supernatural battle upstairs that will determine the fate of all life on earth and that I should be  glad that I’m still hearing the sounds of battle being waged because it means the moment of doom for the human race and my own personal demise has not yet been decided.

But I’m not glad. I’m annoyed.

I don’t want to be the passive-aggressive, intolerant downstairs neighbor who bangs on the ceiling all the time about a little kid being a little kid, but damn if I haven’t given it some serious thought. They say (I’m not sure who “they” are in this context) that communal living, such as living in an apartment complex, is good for us as a society because it teaches us to tolerate the small annoyances that make up living in a society with other people and as a result makes us more considerate citizens. The reasoning on this seems sound, but the actuality is a low level of constant annoyance with the upstairs neighbors about whom I know nothing except that they spawned a high energy elephant-centipede of a child.

My annoyance doesn’t end there. There’s also my annoyance with having to get dressed on the weekends instead of just going about wearing my comfy robe. There’s the annoyance of having to decorate for Christmas knowing that I will need to un-decorate again in a month. There’s the annoyance of having dozens of small tasks that need my attention and that I’ve been putting off for several days. There’s the annoyance of having sore muscles after thirty minutes of exertion because I’m so out of shape. There’s the annoyance of having to find a flattering photo for the Christmas card. There’s the annoyance of a messy house. There’s the annoyance of having to unsubscribe from dozens of blast emails- not spam exactly, but not useful, personal messages either. There’s the annoyance of advertisements in my Facebook news feed. There’s the annoyance of having nothing to write about except annoyance.

So it’s safe to say that I am probably not my most friendly or personable self today. But on the plus side, I never feel that longing to hear the pitter pat of little feet.

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~ by Gwydhar Gebien on December 8, 2013.

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