I'm irritated that I'm getting my third cold since January. Well, the first was definitely the flu which wound up as bronchitis and sinusitis. Then just as I was feeling better, I got another cold. I felt OK for a few weeks, and now here's a cold again.
Which leads me to my second beef . . .
CLOSE TALKERS! Ugh . . . I can hear people speaking in a conversational tone from at least six feet away. There's no need to be so close to me that we're touching. Someone in my circle is a notorious close-talker. I'll start out standing in a place, and after five minutes of conversation, I've moved back about five feet just to maintain some personal space. I'm sure it's quite comical to watch, but it's very stifling. And germy. Kids are naturally close talkers and I can handle that as part of my job, but not from adults. I wish I had the gonads to do as Jerry Seinfeld does in the close-talker episode where he gets nose to nose with the guy like it's no big deal. But I can't. I wasn't made that way. I was made to have at least three feet of no-fly zone around my personal planet. Calgon, take me back to the 1860's and giant hoopskirts, or the Renaissance with their broad farthingales. That would be such a relief.
"There is no worse tyranny than to force a man to pay for what he does not want merely because you think it would be good for him." - Robert Heinlein