It's the little things

I am a pretty easygoing gal. I have a pretty good sense of humor about most things in life--no matter how frustrating or bleak of a situation. What's that? You say a teenage patient has locked the volunteers in the activity room of the hospital and my ride is waiting for me outside? Ha! Cute kids...

Did you say there is toilet water leaking through the ceiling of my apartment into my living room? Again!? Really! Hahaha! Guess I better call the landlord...

Those things really don't bother me. But... why is it when I go to talk to a coworker and have to stop by his office a dozen times before actually catching him in office, my blood begins to boil?

Why is it that when I haven't left my office for four hours--and the phone hasn't rang once--I have three messages on my voicemail when I return from a three minute visit to the bathroom? How can the universe be so precise?

::Deep breaths::

Really, I'm fine. Maybe I'll go check his office again. 13th time is a charm...