In my attempt to escape to another part of the train, I found myself tangled between a bike and a pram. The owners had the audacity to look at me as if I was the one who had got in the way. Once I finally freed myself from the trap, I found myself standing for the rest of the journey because all the seats were taken.
My train seemed to be filled with people who I can only assume paid for an extra ticket to justify why their feet and their bags qualified for priority seating. One business man had the gall to let out an exasperated sigh when I politely asked him to move his briefcase so that I could sit down.
Oh I'm terribly sorry sir, your bag must be exhausted from working all day long to pay for the travelcard that enabled it to board this train!
As tempting as it is to make this another rant about commuter customs, I will refrain as I plan to do a 'part 2' blog at some point.
In all honesty, I actually blame the parents for the lack of manners that is so prevalent in today's society. I still remember the look of horror a mother gave me for having the good sense to duck out of the way as her daughter sneezed right into my face. She looked at me as if I was the germ ridden monster instead of her offspring. We then had a stand-off as each of us waited for the other to apologise. It got so awkward that I started to expect to see a tumbleweed roll through the middle of us.
Just because you find your child cute, does not mean that I have to. You seem to find your kid walking around with food smeared across their face to be endearing. I find it disturbing. Although, by the time I get around to procreating, I will probably be too busy blogging to even feed my children. Calm down social services, I kid! I kid!
This made me think about how honest we are with ourselves. I often badger my mother in an attempt to get her to confess to which one of us is her favourite child. As I pace around her tied up body, I shout 'LIAR' into her face, in between bouts of water boarding. But still, she insists that she loves us all equally. In my case, it's clearly evidence of Stockholm Syndrome (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_syndrome.)
Can that really be true? Surely you must favour one child over another. To try and understand this, I have to liken this concept to food, because that's the only thing I can imagine loving as much as (or more than) my offspring. I do love all foods with ferociousness. But I also go through phases of which ones I prefer to eat the most. There are some weeks where I will only eat chicken nuggets and then the next week it's a bread stick addiction. So we are probably all her favourites at one time or another, but I am obviously the most consistent one.
Kelloggs are currently doing a campaign where they feed a child a bowl of cereal for every box you buy. I'm hoping that Colegate will pick up on this and do the same thing for people for every toothbrush that I buy. I find myself wearing scarves all year long in an attempt to always have a makeshift face mask ready when I need it. And people say that Justin Bieber does everything wrong!
These cats are hellbent on getting me to love them. Have they no self respect?! Cats are known for being divas, hence the saying 'stop being so catty'. Why can't these ones just walk away from me with their tails high up in the air.
I've noticed that almost every post I've written includes the words 'battle' and 'war'. Why are we so eager to pick a fight with anything and everything. I complain about the things that make me sick and tired but I tend to focus on these very frustrations. In allowing myself to get so easily irritated by things, I am the one making myself irritable.
This very blog is possible because of my super power of being see of all the things that are wrong with the world. Or rather the excessive time I have to type up all the things that people think but don't say (probably for a good reason!).
This made me think of a scene from the TV show 'The IT Crowd', where a manager succeeds in pressurising his staff by declarding a war on stress.