Little things annoy me.

The dangling cord on my office desk phone; it brushes the top of my hand when I reach for the mouse, and I flick it back with a grunt.  The soggy wash cloths draped over the grab-bars in my shower; I push them aside, grumbling about Why some people can’t….Today, I stopped myself.  Can’t what?  Take a shower without neatly hanging their wash cloths over the silver bar in the shower area?  Really, Corinne!

A hundred times a day, I find myself biting my tongue.  This raises a very interesting question:  Before January 1, when this quest to go complaint-free commenced, what did I do instead of biting my tongue?  What words erupted from my unguarded mouth?  And how many hurt feelings did that lava leave in its wake?

I’ve been swatting flies all my life.  These small annoyances that should have rolled past me, like the no-see-ums on an otherwise lovely summer evening that we tolerate because the setting sun seems lovely and the warm air divine.  I look back on 58 years (soon to be 59….) and wonder:  Can I ever find each recipient of my ire, and apologize for my intolerance?

Yikes.  A daunting task.  Maybe I could just share this page with the universe via click, click, click, and somebody will tell them, “Hey, dude, remember that lady who barked at you for standing in her way at Starbucks?  She’s sorry, man.”

Ya think?