Catching the ITIS

The addition of "itis" (pronounced: EYE-tiss) can be applied to just about any word for added emphasis, and is really effective when used to describe someone's negative behavior.  Especially in cases where this behavior is unwarranted, unsolicited, and as if it's coming randomly out of nowhere - all wrapped up in a pretty little package of enraged hatred just for you.

For today's post, my specific inspiration was a person who caught douche-itis. You see, this person (who will remain nameless in order to protect them from their own ridiculous actions) came back from hanging out with another individual who has a chronic case of douche-itis.  Unfortunately, the infected person rubbed off on the healthy person and they returned to me with a mild case of douche-itis.  They left my presence four hours earlier happy, filled with hope, a pleasant demeanor and extremely healthy.  When they returned from the objectionable infected friend, there was an unmistakable chip on their shoulder, a chill in their tone of voice, detached ambivalence towards my emotional sharing and an abnormally heightened level of "I hate the world." dripping from every orafice and pore.  It was downright disgusting and absolutely offensive.

When I confronted this individual regarding the newfound illness they most definitely caught, I was met with low grumbling - which quickly escalated to frustration and then in minutes it was furious anger.  The cous de grace was when I was being verbally reprimanded (as they were helping me change some bed linens) for not having alternated the sheets for the bedding to the other set, as opposed to what I did (which was just stripping the current linens, washing them and replacing them back onto the bed).  The HORROR.  GASP!  I have defaced the holiest of holy's.  Holy sacrilege batman!  There is no sin considered higher in evilness level as the one which is committed by the unrepentant linen changer. That's straight to hell - with absolutely no get out of molten lava free cards.  I may actually burst into flames at the first sight of a holy figure or a cross.

The next day symptoms had improved somewhat.  Apparently, without having caught the chronic case of it, the milder version only lasts 24 hours.  So, let this serve as a warning to you all.  Stock up on your tocopherols, antioxidants, oregano oil, voodoo dolls, sea salt, dragons blood and any other bewitched or homeopathic items to maintain your health and not be weakened by a case of douche-itis.  If you do catch it, the recipe for a quick recovery is to just drown in liquor, let anything fly out of your mouth without thought or concern for your audience (keeping it held inside only doubles the symptoms) and insult whoever is nearest to you as much as possible within a few hours until you pass out from the stress of it all.  Screaming at people helps a lot too.  By morning (having been separated by a significant distance from any other human beings overnight) things should be right as rain.  Although you might have some foggy recollection of the events and how they unfolded from the last 24 hours.

Douche-itis is just bad juju, man.

Thanks for nut'in

Thank you, brown window spiders, for coming to my property, and making me afraid of death inducing bites on my butt every time I sit on my patio furniture. I love extremely toxic arachnid bites.

Thank you, dirty diarrhea diaper for exploding at a Japanese steakhouse restaurant, all over the car seat, my daughters last clean set of clothes and finally, my shirt.  That experience just makes me want to go out to dinner EVERY night.

Thank you city property tax employee, for making our conversation as pleasant as a colonoscopy with massive hemorrhoids.  You're demeanor was as warm as I imagine an icicle impaling my heart would feel.

Thank you, new postal employee who's filling in temporarily for the vacationing one, for returning my water bill back to the sender as undeliverable "not a legitimate address" because you can't recognize a new house on an old lot and deliver my mail... Ever.  I like teetering on the edge of knowing if my water will shut off... that's so exciting!

Thank you, migraines, for crippling me and reducing me to my knees every time a ray of sunshine breaks through the window or a sound enters my ears. Being coherent and able, and not bed ridden to a dark soundless cave is SO overrated.

Thank you, toddler, for not only slapping me, ripping hair by the root from my temples and kicking my face, but also for throwing a meltdown fit for a solid hour whilst screaming at decibels that would break glass directly in my ear - all the while I contemplate knocking myself out to end the pain of this experience. Childhood is so magical and beautiful.

Thank you, Diego, for being one of several preschool aged shows that literally screams at me to pet a frigging turtle (rendering it impossible to nap) while I am trying to distract my toddler for just an extra twenty minutes so that I may sleep for once in this god forsaken role of constant sleep deprivation.  I love your program, oh, and also want to see you choke on an Ostrich egg as soon as possible.

Thank you, toothless, creepy, gas station man, for smiling at me in a way that made me want to hide every pair of underwear and shoes I own for fear that you may follow me home and sniff or steal all of them.  Thats my favorite emotion, really.

Thank you, stalker, for making me change my number, remove myself from all social media, move from my home and hide behind a fake name for my protection.  I just adore living in fear of being discovered by a psychopath.  

Thank you, crossing guard, for not having any resemblance of a filter, and insulting everyone who walks past you on their way to dropping off their kids at school.  We definitely don't have enough judgement and frustration from our children in response to just GOING to school, your added commentary just makes the morning all the more FANTASTICALLY awful.

The Pore Goblin

When you have created a red pocked complexion from your ill attempted facial, and you are not willing to take responsibility for your own facial scraping actions, you can always blame things on the Pore Goblin.  He comes around right before you fall into REM sleep...

  

Once you have reached earth shattering snore level, he's ready to advance upon your otherwise still body.  Watching evilly as you snore, he slowly crawls toward your face.  He's watching us right now, he knows we are talking about him.  His troglodyte alien sixth sense works exceptionally well, especially being that he is the runt of the Pore Goblin family.

*SHWING* His razor sharp claws are no match for your mace.  In one fell swoop he could literally rip your face apart.  Seriously.

Claws descend upon innocent skin, and before you know it, you are about to fall prey to his facial scraping actions.  His movements are precise and so light, that you don't even know what's going on, and seldom wake up in the middle of his midnight attack.

The next morning you head to the bathroom to wash your face, and lo and behold... half of it is gone.  What has replaced your once even toned, tight pored face, is now a splattering of bleeding red scrapes and pock marks.  Calling in sick might be a good option to avoid co-workers, but then what will be your excuse to the Pizza delivery man?  Dilemma's Dilemma's... Surely you don't want to be seen in public looking like a rejected cast member from Hellraiser 2.  Think of the children, and your elderly neighbor... her 90 year old ticker couldn't handle that visual. 

Note to reader: buy stock in concealer, if you don't you're left with only baby powder and nude lip liner to cover the ghastly marks.  NOT cool.

This story is based on true events. 

Footnote: If you're not worried about spiders crawling into your head from sleeping with your mouth open, or those earwigs from Dune laying babies in your ear, then there is no need to worry about the Pore Goblin.  You apparently know something we don't.