Displaced rage

I'm bothered and annoyed.

By the BMW sports car driver who cut across in front of me in the bike lane and stopped, so as to take a parking space.

By the pedestrians who don't look and just step out in the road in front of my bike (unless they're old - then I stop for them to let them cross).

By drivers who need to rev loudly and drive past me very fast and close, to let me know my bike is in their way.

By the driver who blew his horn at me for stopping in the right hand lane to turn right. I only have 2 hands to hold onto the handlebars while I brake on a steep downhill. I'm sorry I didn't have a third hand to indicate with. Truly sorry.

Fair to say, I'm more bothered by things when I'm riding - at the moment it brings out a kind of road-anger (rage is too strong).

But I was also negatively inclined to those four twenty-something girls in the cafe with their matching outfits and over-straightened hair, oozing that aura of self-absorption, privilege and superiority, who were totally unaware of the couple with the pram trying to squeeze past their chairs, while I was squishing my chair as far into the wall as possible to try to give them room.

I'm bothered by the state in which the previous tenants left the walls of this flat. And the state of the oven they forgot to clean.

And I'm annoyed that the leak in my bathroom ceiling is still unfixed after three months due chiefly to uncooperative neighbours.

It wasn't always like this. And these are pretty trivial things to be annoyed by. They should just wash over me, and It doesn't improve my life one tiny bit to be holding these thoughts. Quite the opposite.

So I have to ask myself, what is it that I am REALLY bothered about, hmmmm?