Four weeks ago:

Mum: “I still don’t understand why you’re getting an induction cooktop. There’s nothing wrong with the one you have.”

Me: “I told you. They’re easier to work with, they cook faster, they use less power, they’re safer for kids, and most importantly, they’re so much easier to clean! I hate cleaning.”

Mum: “But the cooktop you have now is perfectly fine! Why don’t you just change it out when it breaks down?”

Me: “Well then, I’d have to wait years to get all these things that I want. I don’t want to wait. I want to have it now.”

Mum: “Such a shame.”

Me: “I can sell my cooktop on [Website] or something, it’s not a complete waste.”

Mum: “You won’t get much for it on [Website].”

Me: “I’ll get nothing for it if I wait until it breaks down to get rid of it.”

Three weeks ago:

Mum: “But will the new cooktop even fit in the same spot?”

Me: “Yes, of course. I measured everything; it’s gonna fit.”

Mum: “It’ll probably look ugly.”

Me: “It’ll look fine. What are you talking about? If anything, it’ll look better! It’s so sleek and modern and flat.”

Mum: “I think they’re overrated. You know, your uncle bought one, spent so much money on it, and he’s not happy with it.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’m not [Uncle]. I’ve been wanting one for years. Literally, ever since I found out what they were, I’ve wanted one. I’m getting one.”

Two weeks ago:

Mum: “You’re gonna have to change out all your cookware.”

Me: “Not all of it, but yes, I’ll probably have to get some new pans. I’m okay with that.”

Mum: “You know you won’t be able to cook with a wok anymore.”

Me: “…Okay, that’s true. But I don’t use the wok that much. I can get a flat-bottomed wok. Hey, eventually, I could even get an outdoor setup, and I can use a wok there.”

Mum: “…”

Me: “You know, a lot of Asians do that.”

Mum was unable to argue with this logic.

Last week:

Mum: “I just think it’s such a waste of a perfectly good cooktop…”

Me: “Again?! For God’s sake, Mum. I want an easy-to-clean cooktop; that’s important for me, and that’s it.”

Mum: “You know you’re gonna have to clean it after every time you use it.”

Me: “Duh.”

Mum: “You can’t leave spills on it overnight. A gas cooktop, you can be lazy and clean it in the morning. Your new induction one, you’ll damage it if you don’t clean it promptly.”

Me: “And I will.”

Mum: “I mean, is it really gonna be easier to clean if you have to clean it after every time—”

Me: “Oh, my God, Mum, it’s one wipe to clean it. I’m practically looking forward to it!”

Mum: “Well, it’s your house, I guess…”

Me: “Yes, it is!“

Mum: “Such a nice cooktop you’re getting rid of, though…”

Me: *Facepalm*

Today:

Mum: “I don’t know, our cooktop is so old. I really want a new one. I just don’t know where to start.”

Me: “Well, how about I give you my old cooktop? The one I’ll be replacing. Like you keep telling me, it’s perfectly good.”

Mum: “No, that won’t work at all. Yours is a five-burner; you have the kitchen space for it. Our kitchen is tiny. There’s no space to put such a big cooktop.”

Me: “What are you talking about? I thought you guys said you were going to be moving your cooktop over anyway, where the sink currently is.”

Mum: “Yeah, but there’s still no space! I’d lose countertop space if I put a five-burner there.”

Me: “…You’re talking about 30 cm of space.” (For the Americans reading, that’s less than a foot.) “And that’s space that’s right up against the wall. What would you be using that space for, anyway?”

Mum: “There’s no space!”

I go to the kitchen with the measuring tape.

Me: “You want the dishwasher here, right? And the cooktop here. Here’s where a four-burner cooktop would end, and here’s where my one would end.” *Emphasising the tiny foot gap that’s squished right next to the wall* “What would you even be doing with this space? You might as well use it up with cooktop space!”

We go back and forth for a little longer. Then, Dad walks in.

Dad: “The issue isn’t the space. The issue is that your mum wants an induction cooktop.”

Me: “…”

Dad: “Because they’re easier to clean.”

Mum goes quiet.

Me: “WOOOOOOW.”

Mum busies herself with tidying the pantry.

Me: *My voice rising a few octaves* “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

At the moment of writing this, I’m more amused than I am annoyed. She’s not gonna live this one down.

I work with four-year-olds. This happened yesterday.

Girl: “You’re the best teacher! I love you more than cake!”

Me: “Aww. Do you love cake?”

Girl: “No, I don’t like cake at all.”

In an attempt to not be a fat b*****d, I got a treadmill. And at first, I was extremely strict about using the treadmill! I used it for thirty minutes a day, every single day, before breakfast.

One day, I had some extra energy and decided to burn it off by doing an extra hour on my treadmill that evening. The next day, my feet were a bit sore. I figured my extra hour had given me a bit of “credit”, so I could give them a day to rest. They were still sore the next day, so I gave them a bit more rest. They were still sore the day after that, but I had run out of “credit”, so I tried to “power through” and did a gentle walk on the treadmill. They were even more sore the next day.

It turned out that I had developed plantar fasciitis because I wasn’t using proper arch support. In fact, I was using NO arch support; I was running on the treadmill wearing only socks. So, it turned out that repeatedly slamming an extra hundred-plus pounds more than a body was designed to carry with no arch support was actually a bad idea.

For the next few months, my feet hurt just ALL THE TIME because of stretching and tearing in my plantar fascia. There is no way to really treat plantar fasciitis faster than just letting your body heal itself; all you can do is manage the symptoms and not make it worse.

One day, I’m at my girlfriend’s place, and I’ve spent the night. She is fully aware of my fasciitis. At some point in the morning, I need to get up off the couch, and I make a sound of pain.

Girlfriend: “Wait, your feet hurt?”

Me: “Yes, they hurt all the time.”

Girlfriend: “But you haven’t been on your feet at all today!”

Me: “Yes. They hurt all the time.“

Girlfriend: “But you’ve been on the couch all day!”

Me: “Yes. They hurt all the time.“

Girlfriend: “I mean, this is the first time you’ve even stood up today!”

Me: “Yes. They hurt ALL THE TIME.”

After six months, I was finally able to actually walk again. And now, I own a pair of proper athletic shoes — brand-name and everything.

It’s closing time. The boss and I have just shut down the register, and I’m about to go lock the door when a woman walks in.

Manager: “Sorry, we’re closed now.”

Woman: “I’ll just be a minute.”

Me: “We’ve already shut down the register.”

The woman proceeds to ignore us and heads into the shop.

Me: “What do we do now?”

Manager: “Just start doing everything to shut the store down except for turning the alarm on.”

Me: “Okay.”

I proceed to lock the door and turn the lights and radios off, while the manager makes a point of walking past the lady with the money from the cash register. As this happens, a lightbulb seems to appear above the lady’s head.

Woman: “Oh, are you closed?”

Me: “Yes, we are.”

Woman: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise you closed at 5:00.”

The opening times are printed on the door at eye level when you come in.

One of my biggest pet peeves is being told to do something that I am already doing. My second biggest pet peeve is being cut off when I am trying to talk. My at-the-time girlfriend did it CONSTANTLY, and it pissed me off to no end.

One day, I am dealing with customer service for a certain delivery company that delivers both food and people.

Me: “Hi. I recently placed a wrong order, which I cancelled, followed by the correct order. I have not yet been refunded. How much longer will it be?”

Company: “We do not issue refunds after two days.”

Me: “I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear. I am not asking for a refund for my second order; that one was fine, no complaints. I am asking about the first cancelled order. I just need to know how much longer it will take for the refund to be processed?”

Company: “Yes, we do not issue refunds after two days.”

Me: “I’m not sure you understand. I cancelled the order within seconds of placing it. The order was never made, never delivered, never happened.”

Company: “Yes. Out of fairness to our restaurant partners, we do not issue refunds after two days. In the future, you should contact us immediately if you want a refund.”

Just then, my girlfriend comes into my apartment. We both live in the same building and have keys to each other’s units, and we’re both used to just coming over when we want.

Me: “So, I’m talking with [Company] customer service, and they’re saying they don’t do refunds—”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them you’re not talking about the second order, you’re talking about—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them you’re not talking about—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!”

Girlfriend: “Just tell them—”

Me: “Do not tell me to do what I am already doing!“

Girlfriend: “Just let me talk, just let me talk…”

So, I pause. I let her talk on the off chance that she is going to say something — literally ANYTHING — that is not exactly what I know she is going to say.

Girlfriend: “Just tell them that you’re not talking about the second order, you’re talking about the first—”

Me: *Pointing at the door* “Leave.”

Girlfriend: “But I—”

Me: “Leave.”

Girlfriend: “I just—”

Me: “Leave.“

She made an exasperated sound and finally left. Before she arrived, I was mildly frustrated. After she left, I was so mad I was SHAKING.

She later refused to apologize, even after I spelled out exactly how she had crossed my boundaries while I was literally BEGGING her not to. In fact, she expected an apology from ME. The kicker? SHE is the one that made me cancel the order because she changed her mind after the order was placed!