I wish I was one of those can't-be-fazed people, but I'm not. And it's always those little irritations that make me mad.
Like the fact that, even though I have a fairly large mailbox designed to hold A4-size envelopes, the postie always manages to deposit my mail half-in, half-out. This wouldn't normally bother me, but it's been raining cats and dogs for the last couple of days and all my mail got soaked.
Or when I take my mother to the chemist to collect her repeat prescriptions. Being old and having the kind of fragile health which afflicts those who're old, she has a million types of medication. Sometimes the doctor omits something essential from his prescription, and other times the pharmacist misses something. So every time she collects her pills and what-not she has to pour all the boxes onto the floor before poring over them, just in to ensure everything is there. And I, the one who can no longer bend with ease, am the one who has to squat down and move those pill boxes around for her. If there's a discrepancy, I get to hear about it for the next hour.
Not to mention being really keen to get home and put my feet up, but being stalled at every controlled intersection. Some traffic lights are unbelievably quick to change, and sometimes it seems that I'm the one doomed to get every yellow light because the driver in front of me didn't know whether he wanted to turn left or go straight.
Whew - I feel a little better now. Thanks for listening.