It is those people, you know the ones, those who know everything, who are the loudest, who are perfect and flawless, those are the people that give me gas, indigestion, and heartburn in addition to the many other ailments of my digestive system.

Although the wise of this world say that we surround ourselves with the people we need to be around subconsciously, I find that if this wisdom is actually the truth I should want to write to the committee requesting a change in my subconscious.

There are the ones who have to complete, then ones who have to be right, the ones who have to be better. On your team at work, there is that person who is undeniably of lesser mental capacity than a mentally challenged chimp. At the yoga class there is that one person who, because you are new, gives you lots of good advice and corrects your downward facing dog, as if it was something very important, like maintaining the thrust to weight ratio on an aircraft.

It is quite overwhelming to endure the antics of the diseased parasites that finagle their way into our lives. Sometimes, I think that my mind will melt if I have to pretend to care even the smallest bit about one of their problems. When I hear my co-worker talk about how she doesn't have enough work and I am swamped with the menial zipping of files, the thought of taking up my computer keyboard and beating them to death has occurred on occasion. However, because of the laws of the area, in which I habitate, forbid such behavior I have learned to smile and nod and to be complimentary to their ever indulgent and impertinent complaining.

There are times when those cockroaches of people in this world come into my personal bubble causing my eyebrows to ping, my lips to tighten, and my eyes to display the evil that dwells inside me. However, I still have my superego to keep me in check.

If it breaks down...
Let's hope it doesn't break down.