I find myself composing a lot of letters in my head these days. The general theme is “You’re an inconsiderate idiot, here’s why”. Mostly they are formulated while I drive, addressed to passing motorists. On particularly neurotic days, (or bigger idiots), I’ll even look for their license plate number, as if I’ll remember it, and look them up somehow.
But it’s not only for moronic drivers (the stupid ones are women, the idiotic ones, men), but for sales people (rude), mothers in the park (negligent), some of my students (lazy), and well, family too (intrusive) .
The thing is I think people by nature are prone to acts of idiocy and stupidity. Not that it’s a definition, but something everyone falls victim to once in a while. So why are the odds of “once in a while” seeming to always fall out in my presence? And then, if I acknowledge this fundamental premise of humanity, why am I getting so frustrated about it – there’s nothing to be done.
I’m even aware of the fact that I am most probably someone else’s idiot.
But I’m still composing letters that start,
Venting makes me feel better.