I actually handle adversity rather well. It's one of my stronger points. It's the little stuff that I don't do well.
Sounds.
Buzzing fluorescent light ballasts, the kind that buzz constantly in a forlorn 60-cycle hum, and make the metal grill on the lamp fixture vibrate in sympathy. Especially in the wee hours of the morning over the dairy case in a 24 hour supermarket. I don't voluntarily spend much time in the presence of fluorescent lights.
The earth movers starting up at 8:00 a.m., for another day of grading.
Smells.
The corridor between the Adult Detention Center and the courthouse, whose walls are permeated with a human body smell, stale sweat, stress, anger, and despair. I walk through that corridor whenever I go to Court (it's the back way) and gag whenever I smell it.
Cheap perfume put on with a heavy hand.
Rooms that so many people have smoked in that the smell of tobacco will never leave, especially bars. Have you ever smelled a bar when the lights are turned on after closing?
Sights.
On vacation - neon lights right outside your window at night, and the curtain is flimsy.
Litter and garbage dumped along a roadside, or into a stream.
Walking through WalMart.
Feelings.
The sticky feeling of sweating into a polyester blouse and wool suit when the weather turns warm.
That oily feeling around your eyes when you're sick.
Waking up in the middle of the night to realize that crumbs have rolled under my rump.
Yes, admittedly, petty trivialities. The big things don't faze me, but I can't sweat the small stuff. |
