What You Can Do To Stop Pissing Me Off

Today is one of those days where just about everything pisses me off. Where about 4/5 of the status updates on my Facebook page make me want to randomly punch a baby. Where I generally think the worst of people. And I know...it is Friday! Which is normally a good day! And I'm wearing my favorite shirt (a chambray work shirt from Lands' End Canvas, for those of you who are curious)! And I had a perfectly lovely Greek salad for lunch! But I'm still just angry.

Here are a few things that you, the people of the world, can do to make it better.

1. Please know that I don’t care about your sick kid nearly as much as you do. You know, I hate when kids get sick. You know what else I hate? Tsunamis and earthquakes and fires and hurricanes and when baby pandas die and when kids go hungry at night. All of those things SUCK. And none of them should happen. And I really hate that your kid is sick. That is horrible. But you know what is also horrible? Trying to garner yourself some sympathy and attention off of said sick kid. I don’t want to see pictures of your kid in the hospital (you have 78! 78!!!). I don’t want to hear how your child doesn’t have her appetite back because she had pneumonia a month ago. Your child being sick a month ago does not make it suddenly ok for you to be late to work every day and then spend the 45 minutes after your late arrival updating everyone on your child’s morning activities (“She was so tired this morning. Poor baby! She must still be feeling bad! She didn’t want to go to school! She looked at me with her widdle sick eyes and said ‘Oh, mommy, don’t make me go!’” Which you know, if this is a symptom for being deathly ill, about 75% of all kids now have scurvy.) I.DON’T.CARE. Please go away.

2. On the same token, please do not fish for prayers on Facebook. Every morning, I see about 5-6 posts of people mentioning things that suck in their lives. Ingrown toenails. Sick kids. Unpaid bills. All very sucky. And then someone says something like, “I’m praying for you.” And that’s all it takes. The prayer horses are off and running. All of a sudden there are 25 comments of other folks saying “Praying!” or, in the case of one very determined individual, typing out full, 100 word long prayers that mention the person by name and include an identifying characteristic like your “beautiful hair” or “lovely voice” (just in case God has you mixed up with someone else, I assume). And I must say, I see quite a few of these posts every day and the same people respond every day. If you people are literally saying all the prayers that you say you are, how do you find time to work? Or eat? Or watch Hoarders? If you spent as much time doing something productive as you do saying prayers for people you barely know, you could run the WORLD.

3. If you and your husband are separated, please cease being each other’s Facebook friend. I think we’ve all seen it—the recently separated couple who still want to comment on each other’s status. And yes, it is a bit fun to watch, if you’re having a particularly boring day or if you can’t get that Rebecca Black parody to load right. But for the love of all that is holy, you’re making an ass out of yourself. Case in point: the other day I saw a post where an ex husband posts something nonsensical. Seriously. It was just word vomit. And a well-meaning friend goes, “OMG, you have too much time on your hands!” She’s just being silly—just posting something innocuous. He goes, “Well, yeah, SINCE I CAN’T SEE MY DAMN KIDS ANYMORE.” And of course, you know how that turned out. Ex-wife, who is still his friend, posts several more comments. And here’s the thing. These people have kids and families. Who they are also friends with on Facebook. Hell, these people have me, and I haven’t seen either of them in probably 5 years, and to be completely honest, totally forgot the dude’s name at one time. WE DON’T WANT TO SEE THIS SHIT. Because here’s what happens: I see this, and now I have an idea of who is “winning” at the divorce. I also feel bad for their kids because they have total dumbasses for parents. So avoid this, folks. DE-FUCKING-FRIEND. And just think—if you get back together, you can always friend each other again. You can plan a whole fucking ceremony around the friending and maybe hire a mariachi band and register at Target. And you can invite me because I won’t be pissed off at you for writing dumb shit on Facebook.

4. Just because it is 70 degrees outside, it is not ok to wear flip flops. I know you like them. I know you have been waiting for six months to dig them out. But people, my people….Let’s wait just a bit. For one thing, your feet are scary after a long, hard winter. Maybe look into a pedicure, or a PedEgg, or a light saber. For the other thing, Jesus Christ on a rubber crutch! This is what you are excited about?!? A piece of rubber you wear on your feet? After six months of snow and ice, you are excited about putting a pair of unisex shoes made out of the same stuff they make tires out of on your feet? My God, people. Flip flops look good on no one and should be worn to the beach or in a communal shower. THAT’S IT. If you are genuinely excited about the wearing of flip flops, it is time to take a long hard look at your life. And when you are done, go to a damn shoe store.

5. If we go out to eat together, please be nice to the server. I waited tables through college--it is how I paid my rent. I did not love it everyday, but it really wasn't a bad way to make some cash. The restaurant where I toiled away was good to work my student schedule/allow me to pick up extra shifts if I needed the dough/give me free burgers when I was pregnant with Sam. The one lasting thing I have from this experience is the desire--or rather, need--to be especially nice to my server when I go out. And really, even if I hadn't done this job for 3 years, I think I would behave in much the same way. I don't make horrible requests, I try to be understanding, and I always, ALWAYS tip very well. So, if I go out with someone, I expect them to be respectful and kind. Yelling "HEY, YOU. YOU FORGOT TO PICK UP MY PLATE." across the restaurant is not what I would call "respectful." Nor is saying, "He's good to look at, but he's not really doing the job that well, do you think?" Yeah. Well, that's the last time I go to lunch with that person, and probably the last time I go into the restaurant and am able to look anyone in the eye.

Don't you love how I don't write anything for a while, and then I come back with something vitrolic and full of hate filled speech at the other people of the world? Yeah.