Irritating Things

Just because I’m sooooo in the mood for a good rant, and I haven’t done that for ages. Can’t be good for me, all this pleasant, positive and inspired blogging. I need to take a leaf out of Ed‘s book and start complaining a bit more often. Just maybe not that often.

Anyway, here are some things that really, really annoy me.

1. My bank. My UK bank, that is, for my Estonian one is so user-friendly that doing a transaction there is almost like receiving a large birthday present wrapped in sparkly, shiny paper. Unfortunately, I have not yet figured out how to manage my finances so that Paypal payments can be transferred into a non-UK account, and so I am stuck with the UK one for now. But I don’t have to be happy about it. Greedy, unhelpful, sneering, sneaky, dastardly rats. I just want something into which people can place money for me when I earn it, and from which I can immediately withdraw it in order to ward off starvation for another week or so. I realise that I am not an ideal customer, from the bank’s perspective. They’re making no money from that set-up. So they have to use other methods.

And so they briskly whisk away my hard-earned tenners as soon as they see them arriving in the account. They charge me a fortune to withdraw the money abroad, or to transfer it into my Estonian account. But that soon gets boring, so recently they started charging me a fiver every month for underfunding, too. Apparently having a little bit of money in my account isn’t good enough. Which is sucky, but I didn’t really notice when my account was in funds. Was it enough for them? Was it heck. Now, although work has been a little slow lately and I haven’t paid anything in for a while, I’ve always been careful to ensure that there’s at least a couple of quid in there, since I don’t have an overdraft facility, and being charged for that would be more than I could cope with. Well, now I’m in dire straits because it seems that they’ve gone ahead and taken another fiver fee for something or other, which has put me in minus figures, and they’re going to charge me a fiver every day until I’m no longer in the red. Extreme Panic. If they’d told me they were about to take out money that wasn’t there, I would have been able to fix the situation – or at least close the account in desperation. They exceeded my overdraft limit, not me, and now they’re going to financially cripple me into the bargain. I think the anxiety is going to kill me, so I have had to have a few cigarettes just to feel that I’m contributing to the process. Evil, heartless, underhanded swines.

2. People who moan and complain about absolutely everything. It’s OK when I do it. No, seriously, I don’t complain all the time. You know that. For the most part, I pick up on things that amuse, delight, inspire and please me. It’s really starting to grate on me how some people just seem to spend their lives grumbling about how everyone they encounter annoys them for reasons X, Y and Z, and how everything is stupid and crap, and how if only everyone could be like them, the world would be much better. I’m thinking specifically of some [acquaintances, rather than] friends on my Facebook friends list, who seem to while away the days by constantly griping about everything and moaning and bitching about everyone who crosses their path, via their status updates. Good grief, give it a rest, would you? The venom and bitterness for their fellow human beings is sickening. And yet instead of removing them from my friends list, I find myself watching for the next poison-filled update with morbid fascination. And that really annoys me, too.

3. Cigarettes. Why, oh why am I living in this Everything Is Bad For You age, when smoking a cigarette has become a social evil on a par with strangling a small puppy and making decorative earrings out of its floppy little ears? Why couldn’t I have been around in the days when smoking was the cool thing to do; when taking a long drag from the cigarette in the holder clasped delicately in your elegantly gloved hands was the very height of glamour and sophistication; when adverts actively proclaimed the benefits of smoking rather than showing you in horrifying detail how each puff was turning your insides to tar; when there would occasionally be a No Smoking corner in a Smoke Away! restaurant, rather than a small doorway laughingly called a Smoking Area where smokers must huddle miserably in the lashing rain with their post-meal ciggies; when you weren’t denied the simple pleasure of enjoying a smoke with your coffee? It would have been wonderful. Instead, I am fully and depressingly aware that SMOKING KILLS, and must fight a lifelong battle against my addiction, giving in every now and again in moments of extreme stress (see point #1) and then feeling guilty about it, whilst feeling paranoid about the smell of smoke on my clothes and my breath. It is crap.

4. Small children. Not only are they loud and whiney, but the very voices with which they perform said whining are ear-splittingly high-pitched and incredibly difficult to endure. I think I could put up with it slightly better if they had deep, soft voices, but those unharmonious soprano tones pierce my brain to the point of torture. Case in point: I was on a two and a half hour bus journey the other day, and had the misfortune of sitting in front of the only small child on the entire bus. He was no more than two years old, and was possibly reading a picture book. Anyway, for reasons best known to themselves, small children like to repeat things over and over again until the most reasonable adult in the world has to restrain themselves from screaming very, very loudly. This child was a master of it, latching on to words that I presume his mother was using to explain pictures, and repeating them for what felt like whole centuries. He started with “thank you”. Aitäh! he said, high pitched-ly. Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aiiiiiiiiiiii…..täh! Aitäh! Aitäh! There was a brief pause, during which I emerged hopefully from underneath my coat, where I had been trying to suffocate myself in order to end my suffering. Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Aitäh! Täh! Täh! Aitäh! I flung my coat over my head again and rocked back and forth as he gurgled mindlessly for a while before starting on “two”. Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! Kaks! And so on and so forth, to infinity. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHH, ARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH, ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

5. Sloaney know-it-alls. I mean the ones with marbles in their mouths and entire history books and scientific manuals in their heads. Mummy and Daddy probably got them a private governess and taught them which bits of cutlery to use when, and they have no tolerance for anyone who has an IQ of less than 190 or a bank balance of less than 50k. They appear on shows like University Challenge and look utterly disgusted with themselves if they get a question wrong, smirk in undisguised amusement when some poor non-Sloaney bugger gets one wrong, and give their confident answers with a roll of the eyes to indicate how ridiculously easy that one was, pursing their lips with a look of utter smugness. They want a good Getting financing is always difficult, but people get good results when they apply at lå – and pick a choice. shaking, and a couple of weeks living amongst some real, working class people, just to knock the airs and graces out of them and make them a bit less instantly detestable.

6. Myself. And more specifically, the fact that I can’t write a soothing, ranty post like this without being scared that it’ll offend someone and they’ll leave me nasty comments and I’ll have to cry myself to sleep and go round in circles trying to justify my thoughts and feelings and opinions, eventually taking them all back and issuing a humble apology and a meek promise never to do it again. Gah. Well, I’m posting it anyway, so tough.


8 thoughts on “Irritating Things

  1. See? Doesn’t that feel better? Embrace your inner ranter, you know it makes sense…

    (Also, I know fine rightly that you refer to me with point 2. And I take massive offence. No, really.)

  2. I have decided to skip the crying myself to sleep and going round in circles trying to justify myself, and go straight to the humble apology and meek promise never to do it again. ;)

    Although – and I realise that this counts as the going round in circles part that I wasn’t going to do – I wouldn’t put you in the bitter and venom-filled category. I just think you’re a bit crazy, that’s all.

  3. BORING. As I say, embrace the inner rant. It’ll do you no end of good. Plus, people then get wrong footed then they actually meet you and find that you’re not as bonkers as you make out.

  4. I can totally relate to the bank thing. Mine kept sending me letters (while I wasn’t even in the country) saying if I didn’t pay some money in my account would be closed. Then when I went to my branch they refused to help me, saying I had to ring the number in the letter to find out what was going on! I then went to another branch, 12 miles away (didn’t go 12 miles just for the bank – was going there anyway) and the nice woman there rang the number in the letter for me and explained that the people who run the bank don’t like it if an account stay inactive for too long. I bet if I’d had more than 7 pounds in my account the wouldn’t have been complaining though!

  5. Ed – I feel liberated.
    Bevchen – Yes, these systems don’t seem to cater for people who can’t always guarantee that they’ll have money to pay in! ;)

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