I’ll tell you what annoys me in 619 words. Now don’t get me wrong; that in no way adequately describes the depth of my annoyances. After all, even though I’m easy going most of the time, I’ve discovered I am, after all, human.

I hear we mellow with age but I wonder. In my case I believe “they” are wrong and I’d like to have a word with “them.” Actually, I think the key is the older I’ve become, the more comfortable I am with calling it like I see it. In my younger days I was more concerned about being a likeable young lady.

Anyway, I’ve just wasted 107 words so let’s get to those annoyances, okay?

I’m annoyed by that commercial with kids singing 1-877-KARS-4KIDS. Have you had the misfortune of hearing it? If not, lucky you. It’s played on every channel on SiriusXM. Pure torture. If I hear that jingle one more time I’m gonna slit my throat and bleed out on my newly refinished hardwood floor, whereupon my 9 animals will walk through said blood, tracking it onto the carpet. But it won’t annoy me because I’ll be dead.

I find it annoying when I slow down to let someone into my lane and they don’t give a thank you wave. That’s all I expect, a little gesture of gratitude. It’s not like I want them to name their first born after me, although I’d be flattered. But whatever happened to simply being polite?

Speaking of drivers, I find it annoying when at a stoplight they don’t react when it turns green. Are they colorblind or perhaps reading the last chapter of a particularly enthralling novel? Those I can understand. Well, maybe not the reading scenario. But seriously people, step on it! There’s only one shade of green.

When walking with my mutts, Wally collects an array of items along the way. Collects HOW, you ask? Apparently the long fur on his legs and underbelly mimic a street sweeper sucking up a treasure trove of leaves, twigs, fox tails, spikey ball weeds…you name it. They stick to Wally like Velcro. The annoying part? Picking out every last one of them after each stroll. I almost considered shaving him but I think that would annoy him.

My dog Skip carries his blankie wherever he goes. But that’s not what’s annoying. Why would you think that? It’s flippin’ adorable. Just look at him! No, what’s actually annoying is when Skip leaves his blankie on the kitchen floor and I unknowingly step on it while rushing to the stove to prevent my pot of soup from boiling over, whereupon I end up doing the splits.

I should preface that by saying I’m 65-years-old and have NEVER been able to do the splits — even, might I add, in high school gymnastics when I was a pliable 15-year-old. My legs seem to say, Gurl, it ain’t gonna happen. Except, that is, last weekend when I accidentally learned I actually CAN do the splits (emphasis on accidentally).

In a mere instant I was splayed out on the kitchen floor, one leg north, the other south. It reminded me of my gymnastics days on a balance beam with the exception of being 50 years older, not quite as graceful or limber and definitely not deserving of a 10 on the dismount.

So that, my friends, concludes my rendition of what I’ve found annoying so far this month. And lest you forget, we are only partway through it. I have so many more annoyances to write about and lucky for me February’s right around the corner.