After seeing the 25 things you don’t know about me meme floating around the blogosphere, I decided to come up with my own version—twenty-five rants! Let’s see if I can actually get all the way to twenty-five or whether I run out before I get there…
- I hate having to work for things—what’s wrong with instant success?
- Why do the same words have to mean such different things for each person? The people who built the Tower of Babel have a lot to answer for.
- It really irritates me that it’s so much easier to gain weight than lose it.
- Why do I have to be one of those middle-aged men with ear-hair? By the time I’m 80, I’ll be deaf from all the hair filling up my ear canal.
- I used to be able to do 30 chin-ups no problem. Why does 3 years of doing nothing with my arms mean I can barely pull myself up once?
- Teleporters should exist.
- I write for an eco-blog and yet I’m not very green at times—and I get filled with eco-guilt. Why do I have to have a conscience?
- I hate have to play catchup after waiting around to figure out what system would work best for something new in my life (ie, teaching English classes where I develop the syllabus). Two whole days gone to scanning and organizing!
- To follow along with numbers 3, 5 and 7, why is it always easier to be lazy than to eat right/exercise well/live healthy?
- Truth be told, I hate working. I’d much rather spend my days puttering. Why doesn’t someone recognize my genius and pay me to putter and write awesome stuff?
- Coming from a home under constant renovation, I always felt that I should be more interested in home improvements than I am. But there are far too many details. Let me design and someone else can be practical. (BTW, the designing usually happens at 3am when I can’t sleep. I redesign other people’s homes too.)
- Seriously, why is there no big research money going into teleporter development?
- Why do I have to be such a frickin’ optimistic person? Here I am only halfway through and I’m having trouble coming up with more things to rant about!
- I love cooking and I don’t mind dishes, but dirty stoves and grease residue? No thank you! Someone else can deal with that crap.
- I spend most of my day in English and then stumble through evenings and weekends in Spanish. Sometimes I feel like I’m in neither one place nor the other.
- My mother sent me a 1kg jar of peanut butter for Xmas (it arrived just last week) and I’m already halfway through it. I’m such an extremist, all-or-nothing kind of guy. In everything! It’s exhausting at times (but usually actually kind of fun).
- To get what I want there a whole bunch of things that I don’t really feel like doing. Why is there no short-cut to success?
- All too often my clothing, food and home décor tastes lie way beyond my budget, and yet I don’t care enough to make the effort to change it.
- Details either bore me to tears or absorb me so thoroughly I forget the world exists—usually the latter only when I’m avoiding something else
- The worse thing about living in a non-English city? The lack of books to read. Sure I could buy them from Amazon but I already have run out of space. I just want a library with a good selection of new releases.
- My computer is three years old. I want a new one but know it’s not a priority purchase—the impatient side of me, however, says that the lost productivity in waiting for Firefox and Google to decide to do anything would more than make up for the cost. So far that voice hasn’t won the debate yet. Can’t decide whether I’m pleased or irritated.
- Why did ABC cancel my favourite show, Pushing Daisies? It was the highlight of my week and now that’s been stolen away from me. At least they rescued Scrubs for me.
- Yesterday I swept the bedroom and herded up enough dust bunnies into a single ball to name it and keep it as a pet. Today the exact same thing. Where does all this hair come from in a house without pets?
- Did I mention that teleports should exist?
- This eventually got way to easy. Good thing I’m stopping now or I’ll put myself in a hugely bad mood.
Normally with these meme things, I’m supposed to tag people, but I’m now feeling to cranky to. Do whatever the *&^#$ you feel like with this. But if you do rant, tell me about it. It’s fun watching other bitch and complain.
Someday Sydrome 