There are many things in the world that frustrate us, sometimes, when severe enough, to the point of anger. The injustice of daily challenges faced by decent people, the maddening incomprehension of war … I could go on, and I will, but not about the big stuff. I’m talking about those little, tiny frustrating occurrences that are just enough to make you purse your lips and sometimes mutter a little profanity to ourselves. Little irks, if you will. Take for example what happened to me yesterday morning. Being the generous, loves-to-go-above-and-beyond little sister I am, I took 2 minutes out of my day to make my brother and myself an instant coffee. I know, I know, it’s a pretty significant gesture to do for the one who used to chase me with spiders and typewriter me into a hysterical mess, but on this occasion, I was prepared to let it go. With cups ready and the kettle boiled, I scooped a teaspoon of Moccona out of the canister before carefully migrating the granules over to the cup. Just as I was about to tip them into the vessel. I completely misjudged the distance, and the granules went all over the bench. “Blast!” I muttered to myself, realising I now had the arduous job of wiping down the bench. A similar thing has happened to me before, once again, while making a cuppa. This time it was a cup of tea. In such an excited state to be just seconds away from enjoying a cup of tea, the flow of boiling water coming from the kettle was a little too fast and the tag from the teabag went plunging into the cup, swimming in the boiling water. Like a fool though, I dipped my fingers into the cup (rather than be a wuss and use a teaspoon) to retrieve the bag. Tea all over the bench and third degree burns on my fingertips, I became quietly angry at the tea and the cup, so proceeded to tip the drink out on principle.

In my mind of utter randomness, I have been thinking about the day to day i