People… I know, it’s amazing that I might consider complaining about people. All kinds of people. But the truth is, people frustrate me to the end of all ends. Not intentionally, but they just do. It is a continually worsening cycle of annoyance with people that will probably turn me into one of those little old ladies that all the kids hate, because I just sit on my porch all day and yell at them for being potty-mouthed hooligans. But that will be me, and I’m sure there will plenty of kids like that as well.
First of all, it would be nice if people would stop voicing their opinions or beliefs on political matters when they are completely ignorant of facts about the matters in which they are speaking. Also, it would be appreciated if they would not assume that everyone around them shares their same views. If you are going to rant about something, have true information to back up what you are saying about the opposing side, not just what you wish was true. And don’t assume that I automatically agree with you, because after the thoughts I’ve encountered this past week, chances are I will not.
I’m also tired of the masses of rude people everywhere I go. I may write in this cynical tone, but in reality I’m quite friendly to others. I just have a lot of pent up thoughts, due to the negativeness I witness everyday, along with my inability to be rude or hateful to any person’s face. But there is really no reason for anyone out in public to be so hateful or inconsiderate to anyone else. I do what I can to be polite to other people in public. I try not to offend anyone, and I help the elderly people in wheelchairs at the grocery store when they have trouble reaching something. It’s just who I am.
But just like everyone else, I go to work for eight hours (sometimes more) a day, and I never have one complaint about what I do. (That’s not saying I’ve never complained, because I used to abhor my job, until I started a different one, now it’s glorious.) But I’m still exhausted by the end of the day and want to collapse. I pull parts for orders, and lift mufflers and exhaust pipes and gas tanks, and push carts around all day. I’m on my feet all day doing manual labor, and yet I still have nothing bad to say about my job. But no matter where else I go during the day, rarely do I ever see an employee that actually looks like they don’t mind being at work. Or I guess I should say I rarely see someone that doesn’t look like they are mad at the world.
I understand not wanting to physically be at work all the time, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make the best of it while you are there. I never feel like getting up in the morning to go to work, but that does not make me act like a jerk to everyone around me, and I still work hard so that I can feel like I’ve accomplished something for the day. Everyone is always so hateful for no apparent reason. I know some people are going through rough situations and whatnot that I have no idea about, but I know every single person in the world is not having a personal crisis all the time.
I’m tired of all the narcissism I encounter all the time. It’s almost impossible to have conversations with people sometimes, or comment on something someone says, without the other person bringing their own circumstance into the picture. Occasionally I may feel like telling someone about something that happened to me, or something I am going through, without them taking it as an opportunity to tell me about a similar situation of their own, or something they are going through. Maybe that makes me self-centered as well, but considering I rarely get to make those statements about myself because of the egocentrism of everyone else, I’d say that hardly makes me full of myself.
I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. Physically and mentally. I’m sorry to anyone who misinterprets anything I write here, as it’s already happened at least once, but chances are people are looking for something deeper than what is actually here. I am exhausted from working, and frustrated by the things people do.
So, my friends, or acquaintances, go ahead, misinterpret things I say. I will continue on, writing my random thoughts about whatever I feel like, because I am a writer. I do not write to keep a journal, I write to write, hopefully well, and after my rampage of frustration is over I will come up with something more interesting to write.
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