I’m going to vent. And let’s face it, you’re going to end up agreeing with me.

I can’t stand people who constantly complain about how difficult their life is, especially when they make themselves out to be some kind of martyr. You know who I’m talking about – the people who always seem to have it harder than everyone else. The ones who, after you vent about your hectic work day, always seem to story top you with some anecdote that implies they need the vacation more than you do. Haven’t gotten a raise in a year? Don’t worry – this guy hasn’t gotten one in one year and a day, and he’ll be the first to tell you about it. I’m so aggravated by people like that – don’t be so quick to story top someone, judge their story or automatically assume they’ve got it better than you. Everyone has their struggles, and your bitch of a home repair is my stack of paperwork at the office. You’re not better than me.

Ever notice when you’re walking down an aisle in the grocery store, heading to the bathroom at a sports game or heading to the bar to get a drink that YOU’RE always the one who steps aside for the other person to get by? Is it just me? I feel like every time I come across this uncomfortable “we’re totally going to bump into each other if one of us doesn’t move” situation, it’s always me who moves around someone. The other person hardly ever acknowledges the gesture either – unless you consider a blank stare and a total lack of recognition to be an acknowledgment. What if I didn’t move? Would you? Maybe I’ll just stop going out of my way and start ramming my shoulder into people’s sides. It’d be a shit ton more entertaining than watching your pretentious ass scuffle back to your table at the bar squealing about the free vodka cran you scored off some creep at the bar. Seriously. GET OUT OF MY WAY.

Have you ever known someone who continuously tells you things you don’t care about? Who can’t take the hint that you’d rather eat your arm than endure one more pointless trivia lesson about some shit no one cares about? I don’t understand how to make these people get it. Short of just punching someone in the face (and let’s face it, there’d be a lot of people with black eyes in my life), I don’t know how else to handle it. Do I just tell someone I don’t give a damn? Because I feel like that’s rude. And I’m not talking about me being insensitive to other people’s lives. Because I care about people, I really do. I’m talking about absolutely ridiculous, mind blowingly stupid, “why are you still talking” shit.

I don’t care if you text or talk on your phone while you drive, but for the love of baby jesus, if you can’t do it at the speed limit, then get the hell off the phone. That’s all I’ve got on this one.

I’m really kind of over people who won’t grow up. And I’m not talking about the people my age who are still lurking regularly in bars (because let’s face it, that’d be me had I not acquired this thing called a boyfriend). I’m talking about the people who can’t handle life on their own. Who can’t manage or even cover all their financial obligations, who don’t work, or who live off the system with the hope that the god of employment is going to sweep down and grant you a job that pays you more than you make on unemployment. It’s called pride, people. Is there any semblance of the American dream left? At all? I seriously cannot handle people who think the world owes them something. I’m not saying you have to have your life figured out. Because I don’t think anyone ever does, regardless of how old you are. What I’m saying is that there comes a point in time when you need to be a productive citizen of society. Work. Pay your bills. One of these days, your parents will be retired and you’ll find yourself still relying on them… and maybe…just maybe, your unemployment will be up. I know, scary thought, eh?

Adults who allow themselves to partake in childish high school drama make me smile. Once you get older, you learn what matters and what doesn’t. And along with that, you ought to learn what you deserve and what you don’t. For the love of God, STOP allowing people in your life who don’t make you the best you that you can be. Sixth times a charm? No, I don’t think so. In addition, Facebook doesn’t fucking matter in the real world. Here’s what matters: love. family. friends, experience. Here’s what doesn’t matter: the date you changed your relationship status, the first photo you posted of your girlfriend, boyfriend, mother’s cat’s mouse, and what so and so wrote on his wall two weeks ago.

Ok. I’m done. I don’t know why I just got on a rant about all the absurdities of human nature, but I felt like it was only necessary for me to share them with you. And you’re totally full of shit if you think I’m being out of line here. Because you’ve all been nodding your heads in agreement the entire time.

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