Peevish

As her day draws to a close, Penelope Pejorilocke adds items to her List of Peeves, as she always does on her least-favorite day of the week. It’s gotten very long in the last few months, so she turns to a new page in her flowered journal and uncaps a pen. Today’s peeves are as follows:

Continued from page 16, Penelope’s List of Peeves:

33. Subtweets spelling my name incorrectly

34. Excessive use of semi-colons

35. Stray cat hairs in mashed potatoes

36. Static electricity

37. Hair getting caught in zippers

38. False nails tapping on desks

39. Makeup-resistant acne spots

40. Mouth-breathing in general

41. Discovering that an attractive person is a mouth-breather, thus rendering them unattractive

42. Getting 92% on anything

43. Blushing

She pauses, grinding her teeth as she recalls why each and every one of these peeves are getting added to her list. Then she adds, “44. Teeth grinding” and grimly shuts her journal as Mercutio, her Persian cat, settles next to her.

Penelope gives him a severe look.

“You’ve ruined mashed potatoes forevermore. I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Mercutio’s expression very clearly communicates¬†his lack of remorse or sympathy, and the two agree to disagree. She turns out her lamp, and they drift off to sleep, quietly celebrating the end of another Monday.

 

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