A tale of two porridges
You know what really winds me up? Everything. I regularly veer from rage, rants and righteous indignation to abjectness, gloom and melancholia.
Sometimes over important things (government omnishambles, the forthcoming apocalypse, the royal family[^1]) Sometimes over fucking ridiculous things like my toaster (either cook the bread or don't, you bastard!), vapid link-bate on Facebook (Can you name a [insert noun] without a [insert letter] in it?), something called a "One Direction" and most recently an advert trying to spark a debate on how the nation wipes its arse:
I've been working pretty hard at on not being grumpy about things all the time. Mainly, I don't want my daughter to have to deal with a grumpy dad, however its also quite tiring being annoyed all the time. But the world makes it bloody difficult sometimes. I usually manage to avoid getting wound up before I leave the house (a consequence of not listening to The Today Programme anymore). Then t'other day, my other half bought some posh porridge...
Once upon a time there were two porridge manufacturers. Both decided to put each serving of porridge in its own sachet to make it easier to make in the morning. One manufacturer (lets call them Quakers), put nice clear pictures on the back showing you how long to nuke it for and (and), you can use the sachet to measure the milk. (G E N I U S). Their porridge was loved throughout the land, for the dwellers of Earlymornington were a simple people, with no use for fancy ideals like thinking or reading.
The second manufacturer (we'll call them Dorset Cereals), decided that people should probably not be given that sort of assistance. They decided they would write their instructions in 8pt monospaced type (white on light blue since you ask). The people of Earlymornington, were forced turned back to the cupboard to retrieve the box to find out how to assemble their breakfast. And they were sad and embarrassed by their simpleness...
Finally, as if to rub salt into my bleary eyes, you could still use the packet to measure the milk. It just wasn't made obvious so I wasted my time going back to the cupboard FOR NOTHING, people! Aaaaaaagggghhhh...[^2]
If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change.
I think the reason I love my job so much (and the reason that I don't think I will ever tire of it), is that everyday I am given the opportunity to not let stupid details like this annoy other people. I might not be able to change the government (irony and satire) and I won't be able to stop ecological Armageddon (I buy cereal in individual packets FFS) but I can (hopefully) make buying a T-Shirt or booking a holiday a smooth (maybe fun) experience.
Footnotes
[^1]: Seriously, why the fuck are we paying for these people?
[^2]: Actually, reading this back it sounds as though I'm being pretty stupid