I was feeling a tad tortured over the fact that I couldn’t decide if I should participate in club activities or if I should just go home because I wasn’t exactly feeling like going. The whole thing being only once every two weeks makes me feel extra guilty for not attending, but then my friend gave me an idea: I should write something on the topic at home. I liked the idea, and here we are. The topic at hand is “getting rid of the feeling of being pissed off,” “vitutuksen purkaminen” in Finnish. So I thought of just the thing…
He had some choice words he wanted to say, but he thought against it. Calling someone a ‘bellend,’ ‘human garbage,’ and a ‘stupid fucknugget’ could make living in a small community a little bit awkward. Especially if what seemed to be provoking the outburst was the placement of the other party’s bicycle in the bike shed. But it is obnoxiously thoughtless, rude to store your bike at a spot that can be used for the more secure locking of a bike and not utilising that, isn’t it? Of course it wasn’t just the idiotic spreading around of the bicycles in the shed that was the main cause for annoyance, oh no; it was just one among many annoyances.
Another cause for annoyance was the laundry room. Some idiot – someone with a family, but an idiot none the less – had deliberately spread around their laundry to dry on every second clothes line. How could you not be annoyed by the fact that you, because of someone else, now had to do similar spreading around of the laundry JUST BECAUSE someone else had done so first? He wrote a note to himself that he needs to write a passive-aggressive note to put into the laundry room about this.
Yet another thing that had caused ire was the fact that he was the only one who would clean up the apartment. It’s wonderful and all when someone supplies you with a vacuum cleaner for cleaning, but it would be great if SOMEONE OTHER THAN YOU would also use it. Exploding at one’s flatmates might be a bit of a bad idea as it would be even more awkward than the shed business with an occupant from some other apartment. He thought that he might have to write more passive-aggressive notes.
But one of the most annoying things in his daily life was that one fucking printer at the university. You know the one: the one that never works. Certain lecturers demand, DEMAND, things on paper, so you have to use a printer. But just not that one; it just doesn’t fucking work. If only one could throw the damn thing out the window.
The more he thought about restraint, the less inclined he was to remain calm. Suddenly he turned around, having just locked his bike as someone else started unlocking theirs, and started berating the other person for the placement of their bike. The choice words were used, and he was quite certain that the other party had certainly not even understood everything they had been called. The rant went on for a few minutes and after all it was over, there was silence. He then walked off and headed towards the laundry room.
He was in luck, for when he reached the room, he noticed the familiar clothes spread around on the lines again. He picked them off the line, throwing them all in the middle of the room, and finally dragging the pile outside. He was thankful that they had been drying on the lines for days at this point as he took out a lighter and set the pile on fire. The printer was too far away and behind locked doors anyway, so there was still one thing he thought he could do. He marched back to his apartment.
As always, no one else had even touched the vacuum cleaner, so it was exactly where it always was, leaning on the wall. He walked up to it, opened it up, took out the bag, and started spreading all the garbage it had been used to gather up by the doors of his flatmates. After having committed arson, this could be seen as a little bit petty, but he didn’t care. Having done all of this, he retired for the day. Some punishment would most likely come his way at some point, but for the time being, he felt at peace, serene.