Indoor Voices, People.

Omgees, yo! I got’s me six more followers than I had yesterday! A ginormous thanks to those who answered my pathetic, whiny request. I heart yous!

Pinky swear, no more self-promoting. Gad, I’ve become one of those super duper annoying people that I would totes love to No Dankes!

Anywho, as most of you well know - I am not a naturally patient person. Ten to you, Captain Obvious. However, I am working on it. There have been a handful of times where I’ve reasoned with myself, argued, scolded, and finally talked myself down into being nice.

Sure, my success rate could be betta - but at least I’ve acknowledged the impatience. That there’s the first step!

Alas, there is one thing I fear I will never be accepting of. Not ever. If there’s one thing I absolutely abhor, that I have zilch patience whatsoever for - fine, there are lots of those things - it is people who defy the unspoken rule of using indoor voices...indoors.

What is it about this certain brand of person, this genetically mutated humanoid that makes them feel superior to the rest of us mere mortals? That enables them to use their electronic devices in an excruciatingly obnoxious manner?

Oh, I’m sorry, I put my pants on one leg at a time JUST LIKE YOU DO, JERK, and yet - and yet - you don’t see me pretending my iPhone is an open mic at the cheesy local dive.

For reals. What’s with these jerks and their ridiculously loud voices? Why do they feel the need to announce to their fellow shoppers, or restaurant patrons, or train compartment travelers why they can’t make dinner that evening, or what’s happening with their night sweats sitch, or how often it is they’re moving their bowels.
Are they seeking some sort of validation? Do they need to be noticed? Paid attention to? Even if all they’re getting is a huge, honking stinkeye?
 I must say that I have a fairly soft spoken phone voice. Very unlike, say, my mother (and the entire Morrell clan). She has two volume settings: Loud and VERY Loud. I cringe whenever I hear her on the phone.

But in her defense, she’s not busting out her cell at Starbucks and shouting at the invisible, undoubtedly small-feeling person on the other end. There is a different set of rules when you are in the confines of your own home.

I hate the manic feeling that comes over me when I’m in a confined space and there’s someone on their phone. I shut down: can’t read, enjoy listening to my music, or even carry on a conversation because everything I try to do falls under the spell of The Obnoxious Phone-Talker.

There should be a law against such garrulous, shrill phone chats. A law I tell you.
 
Who’s with me? Get the party petition started.