Irritation.

We all know them. Those occasional, thankfully infrequent liaisons with people who put simply, irritate the fuck out of you.

I've met one.

There are people who I like, and hit it off with immediately. There are people who I know I'll not get on with; and those who I neither care about either way. There are have even been people who take an immediate dislike to me and more often than not I can't care less about them. However, every now and then, you meet one who just really, really, completely irritates the HELL out of you.

I repeat... I've met one.

This person, I will call Y. I have rarely come across someone who has irritated me quite as much as this person does; and it's been right from the SECOND she first opened her mouth. I can't even explain most of it. It's just a totally irrational, entirely unpleasant personification of nails on a chalk board.  I have a few issues with the way this person behaves, talks... and after this week breathes. 

I first experienced this person on the telephone when she phoned the wrong department to enquire about the job vacancy.  After me repeating about five times that she'd come through to the wrong department, after fifteen minutes she took a breath and enabled me to actually transfer her to my friend Dave, who is now her mentor.  My second encounter with her just brought back awful flashbacks of the phonecall; heightened by her smug little face as she twittered on about how she now had a three minute drive to work... to MY preferred job location, while I'd been given an hours commute because I haven't popped out children.  My contact with her has been limited, thankfully, as I then found out this shrill, being is paid about 5k more than everyone else to do the same job.  This has added to my annoyance. 

I now find myself on WEEK LONG training course with Y.  It's Tuesday... and I'm already finding myself digging my nails into the side of my seat on the NUMEROUS occasions she feels it necessary to open her gob and tell another long winded, excruciatingly, mundane story about things the WHOLE room already knows and experiences on a daily basis.  

This person should be a primary school teacher.  She talks like one.  To everyone;  And in a Black country, sing song, nursery rhyme accent that makes me want to smash up the room in some vain effort to get her to just PLEASE. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.  I genuinely don't think that would work.  I could smash every single chair through every single window and turn around to still find her twittering away. 

I can't help the eye rolling, the jaw clenching, the whole body tensing and slow intake of breath every time she speaks.  She speaks... TOO MUCH... and FAR FAR too often.  I'm not the only one to notice either.  I am often told I am too expressive; that is that I can't hide my emotions.  They're usually written all over my face and I have limited control over this.  Today she challenged something I was saying and she basically provoked me into challenging her back and making her look like a total knob in front of the whole course.  I had too.  For the sake of my own sanity I had to correct her, if only just to shut her the fuck up. 

I somehow have to get through another three days of this.  Frighteningly the course involves group work and I live in fear of being told I have to work with her.  I fear my head will actually explode if I have to endure that hellish prospect.

I'm not a nasty person.  I'm not.  However I am sensitive, and therefore easily irritated as you may have discovered from my posts about Misophonia last year. This woman, is the human equivalent of that never ceasing nose whistle, the all-night snore, the endless, slushy, chomp chomp chomp of food between salivating teeth and jaws. 

Friday can NOT come soon enough....