Possible causes for blood pressure increase, stroke, liver failure, cardiac arrest, etc.

I’m going to compose a list of all the people I hate today and why. The end result will be you hating them as well and my day of complete angst will not have been squandered.

1. My roommate. I will refer to him as Petri Dish for the simple reason that I am unable to come up with any other explanation to his complete idiotism other than he was simply bred from a Petri dish during a lab experiment. Take all of the components and traits form every buffoon of a roommate you have ever experienced, multiply them by 12, add in a whole gaggle of irresponsibility with equal parts obliviousness and there you have it: Petri Dish.
Before leaving for work this morning I decided to do the dishes. Let me preface the cause of this specific fury by saying that Petri survives on a diet based solely on hot dogs (all beef), Kraft American cheese, Top Ramen, and Lemonade. He is a disgusting individual who smells like belly button. As I peered into the sink this morning I noticed the remnants of Petri’s dinner from last night: bits of hot dog bun and bits of hot dog meat. “Bits” of hot dog bun is actually an extreme understatement. It was actually the entire hot dog bun ripped up into pieces as a five year old would do to a piece of bread with it’s crust still attached – which, I suppose, is incredible fitting behavior of Petri. Now, we have a leaky faucet, so all night this sick lot of food had been soaking up water until it became a sick, soggy, mushy, putrid mess that smelled of all-beef hot dog grease. This act of defiance towards a clean household drove Petri straight to numero uno on my list of fuck heads today.

2. The Office Manager. This chronically self-loathing waste of space is one of those types that always has something to bitch about. It seems she is incapable of having a normal conversation without bitching about something mundane that I absolutely do not care about. Today was the cream of the crop of complaints, the shining gem of bitch fests the out shined them all based simply on how unbelivably tacky it was. It being payday, Self-Loather was complaining about how she has no money (this is INSIDE of her place of employment, mind you). Loather is going on and on about how her expenses exceed her paycheck this month. Well, la dee da. I continue to nod my head sympathetically whilst comparing her to John Travolta in drag in my head. This B thinks she is the only one with money problems around the *gasp* HOLIDAYS!!! Sidenote: Loather lives AT HOME with her MOTHER in JERSEY! Homegirl should not be having money issues. So she finally removes herself from my presence only to continue to complain about her budgeting woes to our HR manager! Classic example of self-loathing, maybe? Hoping to pity other people into thinking she needs a raise? BLARG!
… UPDATE: Self-Loather just got called to jury duty, she is currently in a bitcher’s hog heaven.

3. The Gap. I just hate The Gap. The marketing, advertisements, the smell, the music, employees, the bright lights. Other than that, the clothes are wearable, at best.

4. McDonald’s. Aside from it being my first place of employment and my own personal teenage hell for 1.5 years, no classy lady actually eats McDonald’s food.

Ah, yes. Winter.

December 8th: winter has finally arrived. There are two things that annoy me greatly about this arrival.

1) Hoods. F all people who wear hoods draped over their faces. Obstructed fields of vision do not coincide with crowded Midtown sidewalks. Yes, it may be too cold for your delicate little face, but you still have to walk in a straight line, you fragile degenerate. Continuing the subject of questionable walking skills, do not force me to walk over the air grates. I am wearing heels, you corporate piece of shit, and do not appreciate having your pretentious briefcase-on-wheels force me to tip-toe over the grate to avoid potential broken heels, sprained ankles, social suicide, and most importantly my general discomfort.

2) Weather chat. As it is, any slight change in the weather encourages futile small talk among strangers and co-workers. But the ferocity of weather chat is unmatched when it comes to the first winter chill. The simple phrase: “Cold enough for ya?” is enough make me sterile. My disdain for small talk runs at an exceptionally high level. I don’t care, you don’t care. Chances are that I’m the one being shorted when it comes to intellectual stimulation, anyway. So please, save your energy for your chat with the MTA guy and leave me alone.