Pet Peeves

I feel like this is going to be harder and also feels slightly megalomaniacal to sit and rant about things that annoy me. I'm not sure I can even get to 10 given what a positive lovely mood I'm in owing to Lucky Day of yesterday. But I shall endeavour to do my best.

My ten five pet peeves...

1) Chewing sounds
I don't even like my own, but when people chew really noisily I want to scream, vomit, throw things, run away. I sometimes start talking louder and more so that I don't have to hear it. This is an unfortunate pet peeve to have as there seem to be loud chewers whom I love anyway in my life.

2) 'Calm down'
The last thing I want to hear when I am aerated is someone telling me to calm down, or chill out, or relax. It has the exact opposite effect, wherein my face goes red and I'm suddenly bellowing ''CALM DOWN?? HOW DARE YOU!!'' It's just not a good idea. Nothing will frustrate me more.

3) Paul? John? John-Paul? Jean-Paul? JP? PJ?
I don't feel like Paul-John is a terribly hard name to understand, but inevitably, everyone messes it up. I have heard every single variation of my name you could imagine. The worst is that everyone thinks they are clever. 'Ha ha, Pope John Paul!'  'Ha ha, peanut butter and jelly!'  Yes, you're so witty. No one else in my 27 years has ever come up with that. Paul and John are two of the simplest, most common English names, yet when you put them together, they blow minds.

4) Pretentious expats
I'm with Laura Jane on this one. There's nothing so dreadful as an expat who is smug simply because they are an expat. If you have a hipster beard, call yourself a member of the intelligentsia, make sweeping generalisations about Czech people in serious contexts, or if you have ever talked about philosophy over a beer with friends who do the aforementioned things, then congratulations, you're a pretentious expat.

5) Things left in the sink
I'm really pretty reasonable and understanding about what goes on in the flat, and lord knows my room has been a disaster area a time or two (though it is immaculate now and staying that way). But bedrooms are private spaces. You know what's not a private space? The kitchen sink. I don't want to see your food dregs or your soapy dishes for six days. Vom.

I didn't even get more than half way through, y'all. My good mood is insurmountable. Maybe will revisit the topic when cranky.