I Complain Too Much

Rant 1: i'm a petty child angered by another petty child

Hey wonders!

I bet you're confused as to why the cover of this book is so weird. Why this is even a thing. Why the description makes it seem like it's not a proper story.

I'm gonna break it to you now. This isn't a story. This is the place where I can complain and bitch about whatever I want, be salty for no reason other than because I'm a brat, and ignore the fact that I have so many positive things in my life in comparison to others. So yes it's a little bit selfish of me to complain about things when others have it worse.

But complain I will, because that's what this is all about, in case that wasn't obvious. So now that I've said that, I'm gonna stop explaining that unless I absolutely have to because it will just get boring. Instead, we can now band together and complain about annoying things in life that are really trivial but somehow I get chapters out of them. I don't know how.

This first topic needs a little bit of a backstory in order for you to fully understand it. And some of you may think I was childish to react to the situation as I did then. But we cannot change the past. Instead we must laugh at it and use it for our own benefit.

I had to do PE for probably two hours a week, every single week, without fail, during the first three years of secondary school. That's the years of 7(11-12 year olds), 8 (12-13 year olds) and 9 (13-14 year olds). I have provided ages so you can kind of align it to the way school works (or worked) for you. Because I have no idea. Anyone who actually knows how school works, please explain.

Like I said, I am an uncultured child who complains a lot. About stupid stuff. But that's what we're here for.

Okay. Back to the PE lessons.

In my class, there were a lot of people I didn't like, especially during the second half of year 8 and the whole of year 9. Some of them were mean to me, and some of them were just a pain.

One of these people is the subject of this story.

When I was around twelve, I had a back problem. And we're not talking 'oh not very flexible and it aches sometimes when she spends too much time on her phone'. We're talking 'five minutes of standing still and it feels like a saw is being dragged horizontally down her lower back repetitively and she can't complain too much because there's no apparent bruising or sign of pain'. It was probably caused by the fact that I fell off this massive big horse onto my butt and my back was rearranged or something dumb like that.

I was prevented from taking part in jumping-related sports for about eight months because the doctor told me not to. I'm not complaining about that, any excuse to avoid physical activity is a good one. But it explains that yes, I was in pretty serious back pain, because a doctor genuinely advised against it. So I'm allowed to find this story annoying, in my opinion.

So it was a cold day, and the class of girls (because genders were split in PE) split into teams of about four or five to play some form of football. Not American football, we're talking the English thing that sometimes gets called 'soccer'. It was basically standing around in muddy grass in uncomfortable PE kits trying not to shiver our butts off whilst avoiding moving too much.

In my team, (not by choice I had no friends in that class) there was a girl who was particularly annoying. For the sake of anonymity, I will call her S, which should mean that she won't find this and be a bitch to me about it. If she is, I can just hide. It's fine. I don't think she even has this so we're good, I hope.

S was, and still is, a person I cannot stand. She was the sort of person who thought that learning ten seconds of choreography in a month was impressive, and you're talking to the slowest learner of choreographies in a dance troupe with seven year olds in it. And it was not complex. Slide to the left. Slide to the right.

Even I can do that in time to music. And I can learn it in less than five weeks.

Back to the PE lesson, now that you're acquainted with S. And yes. She's a real person, this is all a true story, I ought to say this now. Hence why it's me complaining. 

I decided to go in goal, so I didn't have to move, and the rest of the team promptly became either attack or defence. And S walked over to the teacher and claimed that she was unable to do PE on that day, because she was injured.

The teacher in question is actually a nice one, surprisingly enough, and out of the two PE teachers I had, I prefer her. She actually cares about all the students, and accepted my explanation that my back was bad so I didn't have to do loads of running, hence why I was in goal in the first place. No-jumping rule coming in for me there.

What, you may wonder, is the injury that S decided to use?

"My foot got stung by a nettle."

I'm paraphrasing, but that's essentially what she said. And she was the fussiest child I have ever seen, in those moments. She was basically near crying because of the apparent pain of this nettle sting, which somehow was on her foot, and this was why she couldn't do exercise. She was about thirteen or fourteen at the time, I can't remember which year we were in.

And I was standing there maybe a metre away from this conversation, both hands supporting my lower back. Which was hurting quite a bit. I'm sure you can make the connection between the silent pain I was in and the not-so-silent pain she was in, and how that was more than a little irritating.

I thought, to be blunt, that she was being pathetic. Oh no, a nettle sting. I understand the longing to avoid exercise I really do, but if you're gonna use an excuse, think of something better than that. A nettle sting is not gonna work.

Maybe I was petty to get annoyed, but it was just irritating how, after being denied the chance to avoid physical activity which is obligatory for everyone at this stage in our school life, she stomped angrily back over to the team with a scowl on her face, muttering insults toward the teacher under her breath. Claiming the teacher was being unnecessarily cruel by forcing her to stand around on a muddy field when she was stung by a nettle, the worst of possible enemies.

For those who are unfamiliar, as I just realised that not every place will have nettles, they're basically a green plant that stings you if you touch it. It's like a small white bump that itches a bit and stings for a day or so. That's essentially what it is.

Meanwhile, horizontal saw slowly sliding down my lower back.

And this is a teacher who is actually nice.

You can see why that would also annoy me, I'm hoping.

But that is the first story of a person who annoyed me. She was a bit of a bitch otherwise, so I didn't like her anyway, so it kinda added to it? Does that make me mean? Probably?

And that is the end of the story. Why have I told you this? Because it explains a little bit why I'm a bitter brat who dislikes the majority of humanity apart from a few select individuals who I count as friends. I'm antisocial and introverted.

I'm not really sure how to end this so imma just ask for your opinion and see whether you think I was in the right to be annoyed by S and her fussing over a nettle sting.

Oh yeah and this is not gonna be regular. Surprisingly enough. It's probably something that will be updated once a year or something like that. I'm not sure yet, depends on how shit the year goes.

Love ya wonders!