Big Buckets of Seething

Allie, Julia. . . somebody out there hates you.

I’m sorry. It’s just the way things are. No matter how nice you try to be or how low beneath the radar you think you fly – someone thinks you’re an asshole. The funny thing is, it’s usually not who you think it is.

I realize this seems to contradict the, “People aren't thinking about you as much as you think they are thinking about you because you think about you all the time,” conversation that we've had in the past. Of course people consider you and then some of them decide to hate you.

Hate may be too strong a word. But these people do cringe inside when they see you coming toward them. They discretely roll their eyes when you think you've said something useful. And when they’re getting ready to go out they ask, “Is Greg going to be there?” For the most part, you’ll never know this because they are polite, genuinely nice, worthwhile people who just happen to think you suck.

Who knows how it happens. Maybe you didn't hold the elevator for them. Maybe you said something about how ugly hairless cats are and they grew up breeding them. It could be they think your teeth are too big and they had a cousin with huge teeth who used to poke them with sticks. Or you maybe you actually did do something awful to them and you think they've forgiven you – but they haven’t and they probably never will.

I’ll level with you. I’m not really talking about you. I’m talking about me. There are people out there who hate me for reasons I don’t understand and then there are those who have really good causes to become a little nauseous when I’m around. When I do find out about someone who has a bad day just because they remember I’m still breathing, I try to fix it. But I don’t devote all my energy to improving things. Especially when I’m too busy thinking of ways to make that guy from Human Resources life miserable. If he tells that banjo story one more time I’m going to lose it.