Pet Peeve

I rarely get annoyed to the point where I want to strangle someone with a shoelace, so whenever I do get that murderous urge, it usually means that I'm really, REALLY pissed off.

I'm not the most organized person in the planet. I find comfort in the chaos I create on my desk or my room because I know where to find what. Sure, I usually have bouts of OC-ness and actually clean up, and when that happens, I'm the only one entitled to mess it up again because I'm territorial like that.

My organized chaos was disturbed a couple of days ago and I HATE IT. I don't mind people relocating my things as long as they handle them with care, but noooooooooo. This oaf just had to dump everything everywhere, tearing a couple of important papers and posters and breaking a project in the process. Being in a state of panic is not excuse to treat my stuff like trash. What if I had something fragile there, hmm? To make things worse, I found more papers the next day, just dumped there over my freshly organized table and THEY'RE NOT EVEN MINE. Is being a little more careful too much to ask?

Hay. I've been very irritable lately, and when I'm irritable, I get so nitpick-y and I notice every single thing, and I really have to exert effort not to say something insulting and offensive. I just hope this week will be over soon.