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Petty as she goes.

Little things set me off. Little things get under my skin. And I can switch gears in about 0.001 seconds from happy-go-lucky to furious. The whole hidden violent temper thing runs in my family. Both my dad and my mom have hidden violent tempers that often are not very well hidden. So you can imagine that, when mom + dad = me, the same applied to mom's temper + dad's temper. I'm usually pretty good about not getting my feathers ruffled though. I've learned to just bottle all of that up and then eventually casually toss the bottle out to sea so that some poor castaway can find it on his uncharted island."Went all the way to worldpool cave!" it said, scrawled across the top of my news feed. I commented simply, "whirlpool, fool" and thought nothing of it. It was good that someone had gotten into caving. I went about my day doing the normal things I do, whatever that may actually be. I came back later. "Who cares if I spelled it wrong? Nothing better to do than correct my spelling?" I stopped there and closed the window immediately as I felt my brain formulating an appropriately hostile and profane response. I could go on about how stupid the other person was or how offended I was by the person's stupidity or even start comparing my innumerable and vastly superior life achievements to the person's negligible and feeble attempts at staying even in the dark, abandoned corners of peoples' minds but I won't.

Because I'm better than that.

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