Blog Dis
What gets my goat...
2025-04-17
Oh my. My list of annoyances seems to be in a continual state of growth, year after year, after year, until it seems that the list has become a scroll that's been rolled up, super-tight, and heaven forbid it should be unfurled, to unravel to the floor. I fear my list would reach across to the other side of the room.
I don't regard myself as fussy. I'm just specific 🤔🤡
There is much in this world that will get my goat. I've held onto some pet peeves since childhood, and my teenage years, as well as my juvenile days, as I call them, when I worked on Parliament Hill, while attending University night courses, to study political science, over and above correspondence courses. Back then, I regarded myself as open-minded and free-wheeling, which I was, but I had thresholds that when crossed would push me to act in a less than understanding manner. This is the nicest way I can phrase this former state of mind. Take, as but one example, living with more than one person in a house that had four persons: me, two guys and a gal. Our house was located near Ottawa University and I could walk to the Hill in less than 25 minutes. I've maintained friendships w/ some of my house-mates, and we made some awesome memories. But we had one hard-fast, sacrosanct rule and it was simple: Do not leave a mess in the kitchen or the main bathroom for someone else to clean up - ever! There were no exceptions to this rule, because when four persons share one kitchen, and one main bathroom, it means that if you cook or entertain guests, you absolutely have to clean up after yourself, knowing that three other people will need to do the same.
So, it happened one weekend, that one of the guys decided to throw a dinner party for his friends (four) and to serve pasta and sauce, garlic bread, Caesar salad with a dressing made from scratch and multiple bottles of red wine. Seems easy enough. Oh no! When I returned from playing softball on Friday evening, after a few bevvies in the pub, I came home to a kitchen that looked like a bomb had gone off - dirty pots and pans, glasses, bowls and plates, sauce spilled on the counter, cold pasta left in the pot, stuck like cement, and the sink filled with dirty dishes. I made inquiries with my other house-mates who also had stepped out for the Friday evening, only for each to declare, "I've no intention of cleaning up his mess!" to which I agreed. Solution: Pick up every dirty pot and pan, plate, knife and fork, the leftover sauce and noodles, and dump the whole lot into the bed of the delinquent house-mate who left for the weekend, without cleaning up after himself. When he returned from his weekend get-away and saw the mess in his bed, like sauce stains on the sheets, and pasta stuck to the covers, he flew into a rage and charged toward me! However, these were the days when for physical activity, over and above cycling, walking, rowing and playing softball, I trained in Shotokan Karate (full-contact) at least three times a week, so that when he came at me, I dropped into a protective stance, ready to fight. He backed off and that was that.
The morale of the story is that he never pulled this stunt again, and he ended up cleaning up the entire mess in the kitchen, to include washing his sheets, and cleaning up the mess I had left behind for him. I realize now that my response was extreme, yet at the same time, I knew then and I know now that we teach people how to treat us inasmuch as they will test us, to see how far they can go, or what they can get away with, even if this includes disrespecting you.
Don't get my goat, to play unfair with others and then expect me to let it slide, because I won't. And, if you see yourself in this kind of behaviour, know that I'm not interested in being your best buddy. If you treat those with whom you live as your personal maid, then you don't deserve friendship or understanding from anyone, for that matter. Take responsibility for the messes you leave behind. It's really this simple, or is it? We never had this issue with the other woman we lived with or the other guy; it was just this one guy, who had developed a portrait of a selfish man with his head up his a** and who felt that he didn't have to be held accountable for how he treated others, his girlfriend included. So when he'd regularly drain the hot-water tank by taking 20-minute long hot showers, again I felt compelled to teach him the value of consideration. I would wake up seconds before his alarm went off, and wait for it, to hear his alarm sound off, after which I'd dash take his shower time-slot and then I'd proceed to drain the tank. It was only when he had to endure an ice-cold shower that the point was finally drilled into his head.
Don't get my goat. My other roommate, named him The Poodle because of his fussiness, and I didn't necessarily agree with this, but I mistakenly believed that a fussy nature meant this would automatically include cleanliness. Boy, was I wrong! We also shared the same large refrigerator and we each had to label our food to claim it, so no one would help themselves. If food went missing, a house meeting would be called, during which our house rules would be trotted out, and we all knew who was the culprit. There are no contracts for a shared household arrangements. At this time, I'm pretty sure we regarded ourselves as libertarians in our views toward boyfriends and girlfriends. No one tried to curtail late night activities or what time housemates came and went, and when they came home, nor with the amount of alcohol they drank or didn't or intended to, because we all felt that young adults are capable of making these decisions without someone attempting to dictate to them. But we drew the line at inconsiderate and selfish actions that impacted everyone.
I see this situation still exists in this modern age of conveniences, where I work, as one example, insofar that younger employees will leave a mess behind, walk away, as though Mommy works in the office too, and will come around in no time to clean up after them. I don't utilize the same drastic tactics anymore of picking up dirty dishes and piling them on top of the culprit's bed. But our office take pictures and shares these via office email, so that the guilty will know who they are, yet it's a constant battle.
According to historians, the expression 'gets my goat' is thought to have originated in horse-racing, when goats were placed inside the stalls with the horses to calm them, and opponents would steal the goats from their competitors to upset their horses. And this fact leads to me wonder if this is the root cause of the issue when it comes to those people who don't play fair, or that they have zero intention of playing fair, and feel they should be elevated onto a pedestal because they expect to be treated differently. Maybe. Maybe not.
My list of items that get my goat goes on, and I could list the times when riding the city bus that I wanted to have a meltdown listening to people talk so loudly on their mobile that surely they must have some idea how annoying they're being to other riders, or when selfish brothers would empty the milk carton and put the empty carton back into the fridge, or rather than be fair and share a pie, they'd eat all of it, leaving nothing for anyone else. I could go on. I could mention commandeering the television for sports, or sneaking in dirty laundry with someone else's load so they don't have to do their own laundry, but this would only get me riled up again, and nobody needs to see me or anyone get riled up.
An old boyfriend of mine hated it when the driver's seat was adjusted to accommodate a shorter woman. Another former lover disliked loud music, or a loud television, or the smell of cigarettes inside his car. The reasons for someone to get your goat are innumerable. I've listed a few. Now I live alone and this has helped greatly to eliminate annoyances. But they're still present, like my nearest neighbours on my floor whose little dogs can't contain themselves, when their owner finally gets around to walking them. Their barks of excitement initially unnerved me, when it happened late at night. Now I hardly notice, but it took time for me to train my brain to let it go, understanding it wasn't the dog's fault, but the fault of their owner. I find it amusing when these very same neighbours are annoyed by the actions of other neighbours doing something that gets their goat, such as when a tenant will take up every washing machine in the basement to do laundry, rather than leave one or two untouched for another tenant.
If ever you've been head-butted by a goat, it's painful, and the larger the goat, the larger the force of their hit. The solution to avoiding these goat-butts, is to utilize your free-thinking brain to practice considerations. It's not that difficult. Really. Being considerate simply means that you consider the needs of others, rather than to solely work on the basis that you're the only one living on the planet.
I don't regard myself as fussy. I'm just specific 🤔🤡
There is much in this world that will get my goat. I've held onto some pet peeves since childhood, and my teenage years, as well as my juvenile days, as I call them, when I worked on Parliament Hill, while attending University night courses, to study political science, over and above correspondence courses. Back then, I regarded myself as open-minded and free-wheeling, which I was, but I had thresholds that when crossed would push me to act in a less than understanding manner. This is the nicest way I can phrase this former state of mind. Take, as but one example, living with more than one person in a house that had four persons: me, two guys and a gal. Our house was located near Ottawa University and I could walk to the Hill in less than 25 minutes. I've maintained friendships w/ some of my house-mates, and we made some awesome memories. But we had one hard-fast, sacrosanct rule and it was simple: Do not leave a mess in the kitchen or the main bathroom for someone else to clean up - ever! There were no exceptions to this rule, because when four persons share one kitchen, and one main bathroom, it means that if you cook or entertain guests, you absolutely have to clean up after yourself, knowing that three other people will need to do the same.
So, it happened one weekend, that one of the guys decided to throw a dinner party for his friends (four) and to serve pasta and sauce, garlic bread, Caesar salad with a dressing made from scratch and multiple bottles of red wine. Seems easy enough. Oh no! When I returned from playing softball on Friday evening, after a few bevvies in the pub, I came home to a kitchen that looked like a bomb had gone off - dirty pots and pans, glasses, bowls and plates, sauce spilled on the counter, cold pasta left in the pot, stuck like cement, and the sink filled with dirty dishes. I made inquiries with my other house-mates who also had stepped out for the Friday evening, only for each to declare, "I've no intention of cleaning up his mess!" to which I agreed. Solution: Pick up every dirty pot and pan, plate, knife and fork, the leftover sauce and noodles, and dump the whole lot into the bed of the delinquent house-mate who left for the weekend, without cleaning up after himself. When he returned from his weekend get-away and saw the mess in his bed, like sauce stains on the sheets, and pasta stuck to the covers, he flew into a rage and charged toward me! However, these were the days when for physical activity, over and above cycling, walking, rowing and playing softball, I trained in Shotokan Karate (full-contact) at least three times a week, so that when he came at me, I dropped into a protective stance, ready to fight. He backed off and that was that.
The morale of the story is that he never pulled this stunt again, and he ended up cleaning up the entire mess in the kitchen, to include washing his sheets, and cleaning up the mess I had left behind for him. I realize now that my response was extreme, yet at the same time, I knew then and I know now that we teach people how to treat us inasmuch as they will test us, to see how far they can go, or what they can get away with, even if this includes disrespecting you.
Don't get my goat, to play unfair with others and then expect me to let it slide, because I won't. And, if you see yourself in this kind of behaviour, know that I'm not interested in being your best buddy. If you treat those with whom you live as your personal maid, then you don't deserve friendship or understanding from anyone, for that matter. Take responsibility for the messes you leave behind. It's really this simple, or is it? We never had this issue with the other woman we lived with or the other guy; it was just this one guy, who had developed a portrait of a selfish man with his head up his a** and who felt that he didn't have to be held accountable for how he treated others, his girlfriend included. So when he'd regularly drain the hot-water tank by taking 20-minute long hot showers, again I felt compelled to teach him the value of consideration. I would wake up seconds before his alarm went off, and wait for it, to hear his alarm sound off, after which I'd dash take his shower time-slot and then I'd proceed to drain the tank. It was only when he had to endure an ice-cold shower that the point was finally drilled into his head.
Don't get my goat. My other roommate, named him The Poodle because of his fussiness, and I didn't necessarily agree with this, but I mistakenly believed that a fussy nature meant this would automatically include cleanliness. Boy, was I wrong! We also shared the same large refrigerator and we each had to label our food to claim it, so no one would help themselves. If food went missing, a house meeting would be called, during which our house rules would be trotted out, and we all knew who was the culprit. There are no contracts for a shared household arrangements. At this time, I'm pretty sure we regarded ourselves as libertarians in our views toward boyfriends and girlfriends. No one tried to curtail late night activities or what time housemates came and went, and when they came home, nor with the amount of alcohol they drank or didn't or intended to, because we all felt that young adults are capable of making these decisions without someone attempting to dictate to them. But we drew the line at inconsiderate and selfish actions that impacted everyone.
I see this situation still exists in this modern age of conveniences, where I work, as one example, insofar that younger employees will leave a mess behind, walk away, as though Mommy works in the office too, and will come around in no time to clean up after them. I don't utilize the same drastic tactics anymore of picking up dirty dishes and piling them on top of the culprit's bed. But our office take pictures and shares these via office email, so that the guilty will know who they are, yet it's a constant battle.
According to historians, the expression 'gets my goat' is thought to have originated in horse-racing, when goats were placed inside the stalls with the horses to calm them, and opponents would steal the goats from their competitors to upset their horses. And this fact leads to me wonder if this is the root cause of the issue when it comes to those people who don't play fair, or that they have zero intention of playing fair, and feel they should be elevated onto a pedestal because they expect to be treated differently. Maybe. Maybe not.
My list of items that get my goat goes on, and I could list the times when riding the city bus that I wanted to have a meltdown listening to people talk so loudly on their mobile that surely they must have some idea how annoying they're being to other riders, or when selfish brothers would empty the milk carton and put the empty carton back into the fridge, or rather than be fair and share a pie, they'd eat all of it, leaving nothing for anyone else. I could go on. I could mention commandeering the television for sports, or sneaking in dirty laundry with someone else's load so they don't have to do their own laundry, but this would only get me riled up again, and nobody needs to see me or anyone get riled up.
An old boyfriend of mine hated it when the driver's seat was adjusted to accommodate a shorter woman. Another former lover disliked loud music, or a loud television, or the smell of cigarettes inside his car. The reasons for someone to get your goat are innumerable. I've listed a few. Now I live alone and this has helped greatly to eliminate annoyances. But they're still present, like my nearest neighbours on my floor whose little dogs can't contain themselves, when their owner finally gets around to walking them. Their barks of excitement initially unnerved me, when it happened late at night. Now I hardly notice, but it took time for me to train my brain to let it go, understanding it wasn't the dog's fault, but the fault of their owner. I find it amusing when these very same neighbours are annoyed by the actions of other neighbours doing something that gets their goat, such as when a tenant will take up every washing machine in the basement to do laundry, rather than leave one or two untouched for another tenant.
If ever you've been head-butted by a goat, it's painful, and the larger the goat, the larger the force of their hit. The solution to avoiding these goat-butts, is to utilize your free-thinking brain to practice considerations. It's not that difficult. Really. Being considerate simply means that you consider the needs of others, rather than to solely work on the basis that you're the only one living on the planet.
