A Series of Complaints. Volume 1. Part 10.

     (•˕ •マ.ᐟComplaint number one. When people don’t understand other people’s disabilities. I have a friend in a wheelchair and another friend who isn’t. The one who isn’t keeps making plans, and I have to remind him that we need to make wheelchair plans too. Totally cool that you want everybody to come along. But can everybody actually get there?
     People can completely accept someone in a wheelchair without accepting that the wheelchair can only go certain places, or that the person might need some assistance. It’s always, “Oh yeah, of course.” Then they keep making plans like nobody has a disability. Dude. Wait a minute. We’ve gotta look out for everybody.
     (•˕ •マ.ᐟComplaint number two. Super personal complaint. My youngest daughter just got married, and my son in law is huge. I’m six feet tall, and he’s like a foot and a half taller than me. I don’t know. He’s massive. I’m standing there thinking, I should be bigger than him. You should always be bigger than your son in law. That should be the rule. I don’t know who handles this, but somebody needs to look into it.
     (•˕ •マ.ᐟComplaint number three. I have to fold the tops of my socks together to keep the pair together in the drawer. Otherwise, I lose them. I have to do this. But every time, I know I’m stretching the crap out of the elastic. I’m keeping the pair together at the expense of the socks themselves.
   Look, if these were some janky ass socks, I wouldn’t care. But they’re premium. There’s a cost per wear calculation involved. I’m trying to be frugal, and every time I put my socks away, I feel like I’m shortening their lives. But I’ve gotta keep them together. Dang it.