IT’S the little things that annoy me most and when they pile up one after the other — and oh how I wish this wasn’t true — sometimes, I snap.
It’s usually in the most ineffectual, middle class and white way as possible.
I might forcefully close a door, use a stern tone with the dog or, if I’m really angry, refuse to thank the barista for my morning half-caff soy latte.
They’re all tiny rebellions that only I notice and only I regret for days afterwards. Read More