The world is a bin fire, so why am I angry at a sink?

This morning, as I sipped my cappuccino at my local cafe, another regular walked in. She speaks incredibly loudly and wears an irritatingly large hat. Although she’s never done anything other than be loud and large-hatted, just the sight of her face makes me cross.

I’m easily incensed these days, but I don’t think I’m alone in my rage. At that same cafe a few weeks ago, I watched a grown man yell at the barista when he discovered he’d been missing out on their loyalty card program. It would have saved him a maximum of about $4 every 10 days, hardly enough to justify a man-tantrum on a Sunday morning.

I even get angry at people like me, people who are grumpy all the time.Credit: Getty Images/iStockphoto

Still, I suspect it wasn’t about the money. There is a lot to be furious about in the world right now, and in the face of it all – climate change, the cost-of-living crisis, two old men competing to be leader of the free world, war, evil billionaires – we are frustratingly impotent. And, so, we fume at very specific, trivial things that are more within our circles of control. We need targets for our anger, and we find them, everywhere.

I get angry when I use a public bathroom, and cannot work out how to use the tap. Do I press it? Turn it? Wave my hands like a dancer underneath it? I have spent countless minutes – hours, probably – fluttering my hands in the vicinity of a sink in the hopes of getting them wet, and honesty, it’s humiliating! If I manage to succeed, I am far too annoyed to even start with the hand drier; I just wipe my hands on my pants and get out of there.

I get angry when I climb an escalator and someone is standing to the right and blocking my path. Move aside, idler! Some of us like to walk up the escalator because we are trying to get our 10,000 steps up and also because we are running late as we’ve just spent 15 minutes trying to figure out how to wash our hands. Let us pass!

I get angry when I run into an acquaintance in the supermarket, and they say, “Hi! Great to see you! We should catch up soon!” They said the same thing the last time we ran into each other, and they said the same thing the time before. We both know they have no intention of catching up, so why not just say “Hi” and walk on by?

I get angry when I’m watching a movie and a key role is miscast. I watched The Idea of You and it would have been fun, except that the woman playing Anne Hathaway’s 16-year-old daughter looked about 25. Who made that decision? It ruined the film!

I get angry when female celebrities insist that they look youthful because of good genes and whatever face creams they are flogging. “I tried Botox and fillers just once,” they all say, “but I didn’t like it, and so I stopped.” I know it’s not true. I can see their lips inflating! They need to stop cosmetically gaslighting us all!

I get angry when I see curly hair influencers on Instagram, each with their perfect heads of silky ringlets, all promising that if I just follow their 17 styling steps, I will have hair just like them. But I don’t, and I won’t, and I know, because I’ve tried! I am sure they are leaving out some secret step. My hair is still an absolute mess.

I get angry when I treat myself to a smoothie and the person who makes it leaves some behind in the blender. The cup isn’t even full to the brim! And smoothies are expensive! Is too much to ask to receive the entirety of the beverage I paid for?

I get angry when I am waiting for a parking spot and a person who is exiting theirs proceeds at a super leisurely pace. They slowly click on their seatbelt, check their face in the mirror, send a few texts, file their nails, do some breath work, all while I hover right there beside them in the road. Move! I silently scream. Stop tormenting me! Move!

I get angry when I hear advertisements for new podcasts, which I do every time I listen to one of the myriad podcasts that already exist. For God’s sake, people! Not everyone needs their own podcast! We only have a limited number of ears!

Finally, I get angry at people like me, people who are grumpy all the time. We should all just stop whingeing and be grateful!

Then again, my hair is a mess, and the world is a bin fire. Really, you can’t blame me for being mad.

Kerri Sackville is an author and columnist.

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