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Becoming annoying

May 14th, 2020 · Posted by Skuds in Life · No Comments · Life

One by one, I am gradually becoming all the things that I used to find annoying, or saying things that used to annoy me when other people said them. It was bad enough when I started catching myself saying things to the kids that my parents used to say to me, but everyone with children or step-children has that experience (it must be a tradition or an old charter or something, as Robert Rankin would say). It is in other, more general, ways that I am gradually becoming somebody my 20-year-old or even 10-year-old self would dislike.

Here are the three most egregious examples.

I have finally become that most irritating and sanctimonious of things – the indignant ex-smoker. I promised myself when I gave up the fags that I would just be an ex-smoker and not a rabid anti-smoker, but I have finally rached that stage.

When out walking the dogs I have actually caught myself saying “don’t mind him, he’s just friendly”. It doesn’t matter that both our dogs are really friendly, especially the big one with massive teeth who should be scary, but really, really loves people, attention and attention from people. I don’t know if somebody else has a phobia about dogs, or an allergy to them or just an important interview that would be spoiled by dog hairs or muddy paw prints. After all those times when I have been canvassing and some hound has been straining to grip my throat out while the owner says “don’t mind him” I should know better, but I don’t.

I have eventually got to the point where I use credit cards to get four to six weeks interest-free credit by buying everything on them and paying off the balance in full when it is due. Back when I used to have every line of credit maxed out and was probably paying more in interest than in rent, I used to see that sort of behaviour and despair, knowing that I was struggling to make the minimum payments, let alone the whole balance. Of course, my historic self could not be as annoyed by this behaviour as much as the banks – they must hate me.

Where can I go next to rub the ghost of my younger self up the wrong way?


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