Reasons Why I'm An Asshole

The only time that tolerant and Kirsty would ever run alongside each other in a dictionary, would be in that antonym bit way down at the bottom. You know, the part where it gives you all the shit that isn't what you searched for. Or as polite people call it, an opposite. I'm aware that with this opening, I should probably be re-naming this blog post as, 'Yep, now you all think that I'm an asshole!' but I promise I'm really quite pleasant. The intolerance doesn't stem to real things. Well, apart from people who park their trollies in really inconvenient places in supermarket aisles, but that's just physics... in a sort of obscure way. No, I'm talking about the fact that I'm really rather intolerent of myself. An inconvenience considering that I typically spend 16 hours a day in my own presence. 
It was upon removing the blanket I use for when my guinea pigs have some floor time from the cupboard, and shaking it out to find several bits of fossilised lettuce, that I decided to write this post. You see, scattering the beginnings of compost all over my newly hoovered apartment flooring is enough to make me not want to speak to myself for at least an hour. That is, after I swore at myself profusely for a whole minute and questioned what sort of child my mother had raised. So before I leave you pondering that thought too, I shall fire right in with my six wonderful reasons why I'm an asshole. 
1. I forget people's names all the damn time. Hell, I sometimes have to double check the spelling of my fiance's surname from time to time, (which is frightening considering this will be my actual name in under five months.) I blame it on the fact that I've met so many new people since moving to Finland, mostly after a glass or six of wine. 
2. If someone puts my shopping through the till super fast, I pack it really slowly. Okay, I'm gonna defend myself right away here. Finnish shop assistants are crazy. Polite, but crazy. I don't know why, but they seem to have mastered the art of firing your shopping through the tills at lightening speed. Teamed with the stupid conveyor belt setup, this results in everything ending up squashed into a pulp at the end of the counter. Naturally, I'm pissed and the only logical solution is to be an asshole. It really is unavoidable. 
3. I open bread packets at both ends to eat the crusts. Ha. I did a big laugh writing this one because I know how much it used to enrage my dad. Note: angering parents is neither big nor clever kids. It's still kinda funny though. I'm cheating a little bit with this one as I only do this when I'm back in the UK. The paper Warbies packaging allows for easy access. Ripping into plastic wrapping would just be animalistic. 
4. I don't replace loo rolls to piss my fiance off but it kinda pisses me off too. Again, I find myself funny, (I'm aware I'm not) but you see, he leaves his shoes out every damn, single day and until we have closure on this subject matter, I'm gonna keep on winding him up with loo rolls. Did I mention that we are adults? Just checking. 
5. I revel in another couple's relationship because they fight all the time and post it all over Facebook. I actually felt the fires of hell beckoning me in; writing that sentence. Yes, yes, yes. I'm a terrible person, I know but it's like a soap opera on my news feed and I just can't help myself. Usually I avoid drama like the plague, but this is just so out there, it's almost forgivable. I'm just a bystander and as a rule, what goes on Facebook, gets liked, shared, screenshotted and passed around your circle of friends for formal analysis. Come on, you know you do it! 
6. I get really, inappropriately giddy at bed time. I've always had trouble sleeping, (which you can read about in my post on insomnia) but I'm talking all-out laughing fits and the need to discuss what would be the likely outcome of cross-breading a duck and a rabbit. Scott has definitely pretended to fall asleep on more than one occasion, and to be honest, I can't really blame him. This sudden surge of energy drives me mad. 
Okay, impromptu seventh, (and probably the biggest) reason why I'm such an asshole... I actually giggled my whole way through writing this post. Evidence that I think I'm funny and probably good cause for hitting that unfollow button. Maybe I am more tolerant than I originally thought.