You know how some people have these little habits that get you down? Like Flatmate. Flatmate likes to whistle. No, not whistle. Tunelessly blow air for hours. So I come down from my room tonight, irritated at the slowness that is the internet, and I’m looking for a little peace and quiet. And there’s Flatmate, all up in the kitchen, making his dinner, and whistling’. No, not whistlin’.
So I said (in my mind), “If you tunelessly blow air through your mouth one more time…”
And he did.
So I stuffed my irritation down into the deep place I like to call Not-Worth-The-Confrontation-Land… and did nothing.
– Liz, Chicago (Adapted)