Irritating, Irritated

Everything off-kilter. I do not do very well with less than 4 hours of sleep. My timing was off all day. Which made me irritated. Although hopefully not irritating. I would be the last one to know. Actually I can’t even recall the last time anyone told me I was irritating.

Maybe my parents when I was smaller.

I’m trying to conjure a specific memory of a specific incident. But my memory machine is all so foggy. I might be able to trace back to the year when I may have stopped being irritating to my parents. It may have been in the late seventies. Possibly a Thursday. But I can’t recall the irritating things I did up until that particular Thursday.

That may have been around the time my oldest sister did sort of a fake attempt at suicide. Swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills and then immediately calling my parents. Maybe the trauma of that time took the attention off my possibly being irritating to my parents because they were overwhelmed by dealing with my sister.

So anything I could possibly do that may have once been irritating now paled in comparison to what my sister was putting them through.

And now that I think about it, I’m sure I did things to irritate all of my ex-girlfriends. Which explains why I am alone now, near the end of my life. With no one around to irritate beyond myself.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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