What makes you angry? Who makes you angry?

This is one question I have to answer in preparation for the first module of my life coach training this weekend.  I have to be honest there aren’t a lot of things that come to mind off the top of my head so I’ve had to think about this a little bit.

But when we got from New York on Sunday night Mike reminded me of something that drives. me. crazy.

We walk in the door around 8:45 after picking up Chipotle before getting a cab home from the bus. First thing Mike does when we get home: empty our bags and put everything into trash bags with moth balls (a preventative measure in case we picked up any hitchhikers from the hotel–a little paranoid? probably but I do understand his concern, we don’t want to go through that again).

First thing I do when we get home: drop my bags, turn on the TV, and settle onto the couch with my burrito bowl.

After Mike finishes his burrito, he starts looking around in the kitchen. (I found some random bugs a couple weeks ago in one of our kitchen cabinets.) “I found some more of those bugs.  They were dead, but still.”

More bugs? Ok, they’re dead?  No action necessary, I think.

Next thing I know he’s emptying everything out of the cabinet again and asking that I help him pull the cabinet out from the wall.

Do we have to do this now? I think. We just got home from a super busy weekend and it’s late. Can’t you see I’m busy watching the latest episode of the Kardashians? 

The next morning I’m making my usual chocolate chip pancakes and moving some baking sheets out of the way so I can get a measuring cup.  A second later Mike is standing in the kitchen saying “you’re not putting all of that stuff back already, are you?”

No, I’m not. I’m just moving them out of my way so I can get a measuring cup. (I actually might’ve said this with a little ‘tude.  Ok, I’m sure I did.)

Last night I pick Mike up from the metro, he stopped to get groceries and the bus he was taking broke down on the way home.  I unload the groceries and tell him to relax while I make dinner.  He changes his clothes and next thing I know he’s in the kitchen opening the cabinet again to check for more bugs.

Do we have to do this now? You just got home.  And I’m trying to make dinner.  Why do we need to freak out?

“You know what makes me angry?” I ask Mike. “When you are paranoid about things and start stressing out over something so small like bugs.”

“You know what makes me angry?” Mike says to me. “Your apathy to things like this.”

I just started laughing.