Is there a set number of pet peeves one can have BEFORE they stop being pet peeves and just become a reflection of someone who is high-maintenance?
Whatever the number, I think I’m past it and, officially, a high-maintenance girl.
Or, just a negative person.
Oy vey. I think I like the thought of being high-maintenance better.
When did it happen — this change away from a (I’ll admit it — self-perceived) status of low maintenance? “Why self-perceived,” do you ask? Because I have a sneaking suspicion I have always been high-maintenance . . . in every aspect of my life.
Well, wait. Is it really a matter of being high-maintenance? Or is there some other way I can justify my quirks, my likes, my dislikes, my “pet peeves?”
According to Hubby, in a quick quip moment in the kitchen, I’m just “peeved.” Gee. Thanks, Hubby.
Perhaps it’s neither — I’m neither high maintenance nor simply peeved. Right? I can’t be alone in my long list of “Things That Officially Annoy Me.” Surely not.
I’m not the only woman, person, who enjoys having balance and symmetry in everything, right? I can’t be the only woman who wants every picture on the wall perfectly straight and in balance with everything around it.
I cannot be the only person in the world who can’t stand when cabinet doors and drawers are left open. . . the only person who hates when her hubby, after volunteering to clean the kitchen, cleans everything but the crumby counter-top.
Surely I’m not the only woman who’s skin crawls when she hears a person use “real” when they really (ha) need to use “really?” (FYI, don’t ever, EVER tell me something was “real hard” or that you’re “real tired.” No, it was REALLY hard or you are REALLY tired. Thank you.)
Please tell me I’m not alone in my loathing of mealtime sounds — the scraping of forks against teeth . . .slurping of liquids from spoons . . . chewing sounds . . . swallowing sounds . . . gulping sounds. Ugh, I’m making myself sick.
I absolutely know I am not the only person who despises seeing children with mounds of dried, crusty snot caking their little sick noses. That’s just gross and should be outlawed.
There have to be others who abominate the word “moist.” I think it is the most disgusting word ever and I hate when people use it to describe anything!
These few “pet peeves” are only the beginning of my very long list. Yeah, I think I will continue referring to them as “pet peeves,” despite the randomness and sheer number. I’m not quite ready to label myself as high-maintenance or negative. Not today, anyway.
Last night, at a Bible study, my husband filled out a simple questionnaire — one designed to see if he really knew me. One of the last questions was “What is your spouse’s pet peeve?”.
He answered with one word: SEVERAL.
I’d say he knows me well.
