I’m a miserable person. Not even a grump, grump towing the curmudgeonly cutesiness line, and that’s a line I haven’t even approached, too cuddly dwarfish for my taste. It’s just that I dislike people. Not people personally, or not initially, but in their proximity to me, even sometimes just the fact that they’re breathing. I realize this is my problem and not their’s.
For example: the supermarket is a nightmare. So too is any store on a Saturday. The pharmacy, 95 during rush hour, used book sales at the public library? FML, all of them. Continue reading