Confessions of a broken sphere

Little things tend to irk me about people. For instance, I get very annoyed at people who don’t indicate when they either change lanes or turn into a perpendicular street. I cringe even more so when people just forget to turn their indicator off, and drive on a straight road for kilometers with the light blinking. I am torn between ignoring it and somehow getting their attention to just switch it off.
I also loathe when people do not throw their rubbish away and leave it lying around, asserting proudly, that they’re giving someone a job. If they are so giving, why don’t they just attach R100 to their junk as well, as a “Thank you” to the person that has to pick it up? It’s really great that they may see a positive result from their action, but I hardly think they would be happy if they were the faceless cleaner who had to clean up the same place because people were just too lazy to do it themselves.

The problem with my little irks are that once I have identified them, I cannot stop noticing them everywhere I go. Sometimes walking through a busy shopping center will bring my heart to a standstill. I constantly find myself stopping for a second or two, just to cover my mouth from commenting loudly at what annoys me.

My most recent bother (and I know this has been there for ages), is that people cannot describe someone without mentioning their race. Although this may seem as something that shouldn’t even be mentioned, I find that regardless of the fact that we’re in a democratic society, people are still judged on the colour of their skin. Once you start identifying people by only their skin colour, and linking an action to it (whether positive or negative), you’re bound to link those two up on a regular basis. If you’re sure that you have a strong will power, I assure you, that the person next to you is being influenced by your statements.

This has recently become noticeable to me only because I have tried looking for a job (and I have an interview tomorrow). Many require one to be of a certain race, or rather, non-white. Although I fall into that seemingly fortunate position (and I’m female, so I suppose I’m fortunate squared), I just cannot help but wonder if my skin colour is more important than my actual educational background for the position. And even if I do get the job based on my qualifications, I constantly feel awkward knowing that my race was a factor. Personally I feel it’s unfair that I have this burden placed on me, thanks to the past, but I also feel that I may just be paranoid about the whole situation.

I may only be seeing things in more depth than there actually is, and hence, I somehow have to find a way to let go of this irk, as if to un-notice it (I understand that there may not be such a word; however, if only the wonders of mathematical logic could be integrated with English, I guarantee that that word would exist). I now try to avoid using the race card. It actually is quite humourous, because people tend to notice that my descriptions of other people can be extravagant and unnecessary, as I avoid the obvious characteristic of a person.

It probably would be easier to just describe someone by their race, but what fun would that be? I wouldn’t receive uneasy glances. More importantly, I would not be able to find something else that irked me about people.