We call them pet peeves, those little insignificant annoyances which, figuratively speaking, put a burr under your saddle. I’m going to share a few of mine.
In my struggle to stabilize my blood sugars, I’ve been seeing many doctors lately and a couple of peeves have been brought to mind.
Every doctor at every visit puts me on the scale. I suppose my weight does affect my diabetes, but if you came in with an infected hangnail, the doctor would put you on the scale.
Once when I was in the hospital, the nurses brought a scale into my room every morning. I told one, “You don’t need to weigh me. I can tell you what I weigh. Too much!” The slightly plump nurse replied, “What a coincidence, that’s just what I weigh.”
Whenever I go to a new doctor, I am sent a long questionnaire to fill out ahead of time. I presume this is to save time when I come in. However, the doctor usually asks me most of those same questions again. This seems like overkill to me, especially when I have a friend, who brought me to the appointment, cooling her heels in the waiting room.
Of course, many of the burrs under my saddle have nothing to do with the medical profession. I hate shower controls where there is a tiny fraction of a millimeter between freezing and scalding. My shower becomes a form of Russian roulette.
In addition, why do all manufacturers and marketers package their products as if they do not want the consumer to get them open?
I can understand safety seals on medicines and food products to prevent tampering. After all, I am old enough to remember the deaths when someone with a sick mind replaced Tylenol with poison.
Why do products you do not plan to ingest need excessive wrapping? I hate buying a flashlight or a pair of nail clippers encased in 16 layers of hard plastic.
The last pet peeve with which I will annoy my readers is a hang-up of mine, which probably has little validity in most cases. I do not like things, or people, who pretend to be something they are not.
I am trying to overcome my prejudice against artificial flowers, some of which I need to touch before I know they are not real, but I still can’t really appreciate them, especially at weddings and church services.
Another example is clothing advertised as a two-piece look. If I want a blouse and jumper, I will wear a blouse and jumper. I do not need a dress made to look like one.
Last but definitely not least, I hate mock pockets. Pockets are to hold things, not to look at. I rarely buy a garment without pockets.
Maybe by next month I will be in a more cheerful mood.