Things That Make Me Ugh

I’m not aware that I possess any ADHD or OCD or any other acronym that’s applied to social behavior.  But there are instances where I mentally “ugh!” at people or things every single day.  Sometimes it can be hourly.  

Like, for instance, acronyms.  And shortcuts for words.  I absolutely know what ADHD stands for, so I recognize it immediately when I see the acronym.  But do you know what it stands for?  I do. Attention – deficit/hyperactivity disorder.  While that’s only 14 syllables and ADHD is only 4 syllables, is it really important to cut back on the syllables we use on a daily basis?  It’s like when someone sends me a text message, “K”.  I respond, “LMNOP”.  Why can’t they text “ok” or even “okay”?  Is it truly difficult to find the extra letters so I don’t have to decipher these letters hanging out in the ether all on their own?  This also applies to shortcuts on words.  “Dro” was thrown at me last night.  I replied, “Hydro or Hydroponics…because the weed is grown in nutrient solution rather than in soil.  It’s the H in THC.” The person I was talking to had no idea that’s where the label “dro” had come from.  They just knew that’s what they smoked.  That makes me “ugh!”.

It’s all about knowledge.  Not only learning in school, or from a book.  We have to stop being so lazy and get out there to grab the knowledge that’s just waiting for us.  Experience gives us the tools we need to either make ourselves better, or to help someone else.  So many acquaintances won’t know of any event that happened prior to their birth.  They just refuse to get educated on history that brought us to where we are today.  The curiosity levels have been hampered by the limits of a cell phone.  And even though Google or any search engine is readily available on their devices, they’re just too lazy to type in a search for an answer to their question.  I’ve seen people ask Siri, Cortana, and now Alexa instead.  “Siri, what time is it?” Did they not realize there is a watch right there on their wrist?  “Alexa, what’s the weather like?” I’m guessing your home doesn’t have windows that you can peek out of?  How about stepping outside to test the atmosphere for yourself?   This makes me “ugh!”.

The word is “FAM-AH-LEE”.  Family.  There’s an I that word.  Yet people will pronounce it “FAM-LEE”.  They forgot the I.  Or when Tim says “REE-SEPT” for receipt.  It’s pronounced “rəˈsēt”.  The P is silent.  The roots of the word are from Latin and Anglo-Norman French.  I do believe it throws his little world’s axis off a tiny bit when he finds out that words in the English language are from elsewhere.  Except “Nigga”.  That’s strictly American.  And the people here in Dade City use that word more than they should.  It definitely makes me “ugh!”. 

When I hold the door open for someone, it’s a sign of respect and loaded with manners.  There’s a sprinkle of kindness thrown in there with a slathering of social acknowledgement.  I understand I don’t have to hold a door open for anyone, yet I will.  If they’re entering an establishment at the same time as me, they get to go in first.  It makes no never mind if I enter a split second later than I originally intended.  But if someone walks through that door without a “thank you” or a smile or any sort of acknowledgement that someone did something nice for them, I seriously want to call them out on their rudeness.  I honestly loathe it when anyone doesn’t use the etiquette that I’m sure they were taught to acknowledge a simple act of kindness.  I immediately will thank anyone who holds a door open for me, or lets me cut in line ahead of them since I only have four items compared to their full grocery cart.  I’ve been known to use the change from MY purchase at a convenience store to pass onto the person who held the door open for me.  Just the other day I went to get gas and this huge truck let me get gas first because he said it would take him a while to fill up his 80 gallon tank compared to my 11 gallon tank.  I got ten dollars back from the cashier, I handed that ten to the guy who let me cut (it was a busy station!) and left.  I paid for my karma to be put right.  I also paid it forward.  He was nice to me, I – in return – was nice to him.  He also thanked me.  But those that don’t know how to say “thank you” UGH!! 

I understand that dogs are hunters.  It’s their job.  They’re supposed to hunt for prey, and I as a descendant of cavemen am supposed to kill what the ancestor of wolves have hunted down. Not in my family.  My dog only hunts for where other dogs have pissed so that she can piss on their piss.  If I take my dogs out together at the same time (I have two dogs), then all is well with the world.  But if I take them out separately, my female dog will spend the better part of ten minutes sniffing and snorting to find out where the other dog pissed so she can piss on it.  Then when I bring HIM out (my male dog), he has to sniff and snort to find out where she pissed so he can piss on her piss that’s on his piss.  I told Tim that I want to get some of those flags you plant in the ground so I can shave the taking-out-the-dog time by a good fifteen minutes.  Just head to the flag and piss there, and then we can get on with the rest of our days.  UGH!

I don’t put these blogs up here so there’s some sort of disagreement with anyone.  I put these up because, quite honestly, these are things I’m thinking about while I’m falling asleep.  Some of my best ideas are when I’m drifting, or from dreams.  I must have at least five dreams a night.  Yet when someone reads my blog they think they can disagree with me.  These words are chronicles of all that is Chuck.  Like or it not, this is all me.  I’m not looking for any one else’s opinion unless I ask for it.  I respect your difference in opinion – again – when I ask for it.  We can be friends or not.  It doesn’t matter all that much to me.  But when you want to start an argument over something I said, I would just rather you didn’t.  I will tune you out because I’m close to an UGH! 

Cold.  I absolutely detest being cold.  I live in Florida for the warmth. I will sleep with the temperature at 75 degrees in the apartment, but there’s pillows and blankets all around me.  I’m not one who sweats.  I don’t know why, I just don’t.  Being cold makes me ugh.  Cold will reach right into my bones, take hold, and not let go until I find a place I can get back up above 80 degrees.  So why does the grocery store have to be at 42 degrees when I walk in there?  I have to don a sweater (even in the summer) when I go grocery shopping or I begin to shake.  I may not sweat, but I will totally shake.  It’s the same thing at the doctor’s office.  They keep the joint at sub-zero temperatures.  And then, to make matters worse, I’m forced to sit to wait for the doctor – all the while shaking.  Being cold makes me ugh! 

Children make me ugh.  Whenever I see a stroller or children walking in my direction, or about to invade the radius around me, I will dart to a child-free area.  And yet people think my dislike of children is a joke of some sort.  They think it’s funny.  It’s not funny.  I don’t want to be around children.  I believe my right as an adult allows me this decision.  Someone will show me the baby they’ve given birth to and expect me to say they’re cute.  Okay, sure.  About as cute as a newborn hamster is cute.  Being squishy and unable to have an intelligent conversation with me is not what I consider cute.  Come back to me when you have some social skills and are able to grab my interest.  Otherwise, go scream, cry, eat candy that just fell in the dirt, pick your nose, and use your mangled English somewhere else.  Kids…ugh! 

Reminding me that my smoking addiction is a “nasty habit” not only makes me ugh, but it really makes me want to blow smoke in your face.  Especially since you’ve followed me outside to the smoking area to alert me of my nasty habit.  You’re just very lucky I have this habit because there have been days that I’ve been without smokes for a few hours and I just want to lash out at everything.  Smoking keeps me calm, and nice.  You want me nice.  You don’t want me lashing.  So kindly leave the designated smoking area that has been placed outside and away from the general public over here by the dumpster, and let me indulge in my nasty habit in peace.  I really didn’t need your input of where I spend my hard earned dollars nor do I need your unqualified assessment of my general health.  You’re lucky this only makes me ugh.  Trust me. 

That’s enough for now.  There are quite a few things that happen on a daily basis that makes me ugh.  But typing about smoking makes me want to enjoy a cigarette.  Happy Friday to you all.  I hope your day is UGH-free.  I doubt I can be so lucky.  Already, someone is knocking on my door when there is CLEARLY a doorbell to the right of the door.  UGH!!!