Old People

Now don't get me wrong, I respect age and wisdom as much as the next person. Some of the most interesting people that I know are old. All of you old people who have figured out how to turn on your computers (congrats on that, by the way) and happen to be reading this, this is likely not a flame on you, so think before leaving me a nasty defensive comment.

But seriously. Old people.

What is it about growing old that makes you feel:

a) entitled
b) wronged
c) justified in overriding whether the light is on or off at work at 6-bloody-45 in the morning, regardless of the fact that the 20+ other of us want it OFF vs. your solitary vote for it being on

Can you already predict my rant for the day?

Coming to work before the sun even has to get up is bad enough, but knowing that just a few minutes into the day you're going to be blinded by putrid fluorescent lighting makes it just that much worse. Me and the other troglodytes prefer to leave the lights off and let our eye adjust as the sun starts to come up and through the massive windows that line our walls.

But she. She has to hobble in and flip the glaring switch the second she's here, regardless of the chorus of protests: hey, turn it off! Between you and I, I think she may be too senile to realize that our protests are directed at the fact that she just turned on the light. Perhaps she fantasizes that her turning on the light directly correlates to us all telling ourselves, out loud, to turn off our bad attitudes because the sunshine has been let into our lives. This is one of the greatest mysteries.

What is that you say? Go turn the light back off? Oh, but why would I do that when I could write a scathing blog entry about it instead!

Honestly. Old people.