The Marquis’ Intimate Diary

MONDAY, 13 DECEMBER, 1999, PHILADELPHIA
A partial list of things that annoy me:
  1. Mondays. This particular Monday in particular.
  2. Cat fights at 4am in the other room.
  3. Your, you’re. It’s, its. Their, there, they’re. And those who cannot (or willn’t) learn the difference.
  4. That creeping, inescapable feeling that everyone and everything is out to get me. Yourself included.
  5. Solipsism: The inability to relate to anything or anyone unless it directly pertains to one’s self. (See above.)
  6. Grey corduroy trousers on German tourists.
  7. Drowning. In anything.
  8. Most things “puce”.
  9. Or tye-dye.
  10. Stock photography of hip or corporate models shot from above looking down through a fish-eye lens.
  11. Those shooting pains down my left arm.
  12. Lollipops that say “Creme Soda” on the wrapper, but end up tasting like bubble gum. Wait, actually, this isn’t so bad. I think it’s growing on me.
  13. Overtly negative people. Like people who would, say, for instance, compile lists of things they dislike.
  14. Sequels.
  15. Losing any tranquility whatsoever over government machinations or other bureaucratic bullshite.
  16. Belonging to any target market, and then being pitched to.
  17. Finding out you’ve been kissing the wrong ass. Or person.
  18. The smell of bananas.
  19. Labels. On anything. Clothes. People. Filing cabinets. Bottles of beer. Et cetera.
  20. Running out of annoying things to list.
  21. Realising that this is an unlikely thing to happen.