Cuntee Confession: Irrational Shit that Pisses Me Off PART 1

Things That Piss Me Off — A Running List of Petty, Real, and Hilariously Irrational Shit

Look, I like to think of myself as a generally decent human being. I love my kids, my husband, my dog, and even that loud-ass parakeet that lives rent-free in my house. But you know what? Life is LOUD. And sometimes, the tiny little things that shouldn't matter somehow manage to ruin my day in the most irrational, petty, "WTF is wrong with me?" kind of way. So here it is — a totally unfiltered, slightly unhinged list of Things That Piss Me Off (because I know I'm not the only one).

Chewing Noises — AKA The Soundtrack of Hell

As I’m literally writing this, my son is eating Takis, and the sound of him chewing makes me want to rip my own ears off. It’s not like he’s eating like a feral raccoon or anything — it’s just… chewing. I hate it. I hate it when anyone does it. Kids, adults, strangers, ASMR weirdos — I can’t. I literally have to put headphones on during mealtimes like some socially awkward hermit because the sound of mastication triggers my inner psycho.
Dear family: You don’t have to apologize. You’re doing nothing wrong. I’m just… broken.

My Dogs "Hyper" Bark: Why does that shit hurt my ears?

Listen, I love my dog. She’s cute. She’s loyal. She’s a good girl.
BUT HOLY HELL, THAT ONE BARK.
You know the one — not the “someone’s at the door” bark, or the “let me in” bark, or even the “squirrel!” bark. Nope. It’s the high-pitched, earsplitting “I’m playing with the neighbor’s dogs and we’re all losing our goddamn minds” bark. She runs up and down the fence, living her best doggy life, while I stand there asking myself when the fuck will she stop?

Being Overstimulated: Why the fuck is everything so loud?

My house is what the Pinterest girlies call open concept.
Translation: every sound happening in every room hits you all at once.
Between 5-7pm, my life is a surround sound nightmare — stove fan blaring, kids yelling/tattling/oversharing, parakeet screaming, and my husband watching TV at a volume level usually reserved for rock concerts and nuclear evacuation warnings.
I love him, but at this time of day? I could throat punch him.
I try to be accommodating because relationships are about compromise — but inside? I’m fantasizing about smashing the remote with a frying pan.

 Me. I Piss Myself Off: Like, chill bitch. 

Truth bomb: I wish I wasn’t so uptight. I wish I could just chill, let life happen, and stop catastrophizing every little thing. But no — I’m always mentally preparing for disaster like I’m starring in my own episode of Doomsday Preppers.
I worry about bills, the kids, the dog, the next problem waiting to jump out at me. I wish I could be one of those carefree people who’s like “let’s just see what happens!” but instead, I’m more like “oh god, what fresh hell is this?”

Can't Keep Track of Shit: "Where the fuck did my ______ go"?

 I lose everything — my phone, my headphones, my glasses… and guess where they are?
Right f*cking where I left them.
And I put them there so I wouldn’t lose them. Genius.

Getting Gas: This Shit Again??

I hate getting gas. It’s not even the price (although woof). It’s the whole annoying, inconvenient task of it. I’ll push my car to the absolute limit, running on fumes and a prayer, because stopping for gas feels like a waste of precious existing energy. It’s dumb, it’s petty, and yes — it pisses me off.

Well......

I know most of these things are wildly irrational. Nobody’s doing anything wrong (except for charger cord manufacturers — fight me). Life is messy, loud, and imperfect. And as much as it all drives me f*cking nuts sometimes, it’s also kinda beautiful in its chaotic, overstimulating way.

So here’s to the loud chewers, over-hyper dogs, too-loud TVs, and my beautiful, anxiety-ridden, overstimulated self.
I may be pissed off, but damn it, I’m still standing.