There never was an opportunity to grow like how people deal with and handle their pet peeves. I mean, I think it’s a pretty good show of maturity when you can handle one of these situations head-on, really roll with the punches.
I thought I was getting to be one of these mature people; I don’t really have much in the way of pet peeves, although as time and my condition have worn on I think I have developed something of a short span of interest in things. I don’t much appreciate conversations that feel like a waste of time, I need to have something of an equal exchange.
So here I was in life, thinking that I had grown, and then last week someone answered the phrase, “this one time…” with the response, “…at band camp?”
I got up and left the room. Fuck growth.