Proof positive that I am still WAY to attached to my way of doing things: both Lily and Rory like to keep their coats in in the house and in restaurants (but not, of course, at the grocery store). And it bugs me.
It is not really a big deal. It is not really ANY deal. Generally, they hang them up when they do take them off, or when asked. Yes, they get food on them, but since they also rub up against the filthy muddy wet car that’s the natural result of living at the end of a dirt road in New England, I can’t really say that bothers me. And yet I am bothered. Take your coat off, I want to say. Stay a while.
It makes me wonder, as I bite my tongue or fail to do so, how many of the other things I let get to me are just this silly.
My sister and I had a very long discussion about this a couple of days ago. It seems so strange to get annoyed about such little things. Yet, those things do annoy. I’ve decided that if there is no acting upon the annoyances, then I’m doing okay.
Most of the time, I’m okay.
Sometimes, though, especially when I am on deadline and stressed, I let little things get the better of me.