Please sir, close that mouf.

You know what really grinds my gears? People who chew with their mouths open. Or worse? Gum poppers.

The thing is, I would rather try and communicate with a slice of stale rye bread than have a five minute conversation with almost anyone, 99.9% of the time while they are eating. The moment I hear the sound of gum pushing through those stupid aluminum packs anywhere in the same vicinity as me, my anxiety level is through the roof. Call it an ailment, I don’t care. I have a problem.

Nothing is worse than trying to enjoy a nice plane ride with your eyes closed while hearing the most annoying sound in the history of the world coming from right beside you. The way their jaw violently bites down with each chew like they are angry. The not so friendly scowl you are flashed, as they glance over to make eye contact. Having zero self awareness of how incredibly irritating everything about them is in that very moment.

Worse than a plane though, is being trapped in a car with someone while any of this is happening. Despite the love I will always feel for my dad, brother and mom, their gum chewing is off the friggin charts. ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD PALES IN COMPARISON TO THE SOUND. A Road trip with my family who has packed a bag of chips for the ride? HA! No amount of xanax or headphones can prepare me for the uncontrollable anger I will soon unleash.

Just thinking about these situations as I write this has my heart beating harder than when I chase my 2 year old up the stairs after finding out that he was just elbows deep in toilet water. Anyway, I know that any “Normal” person reading the witty thinks that I am in fact, an asshole. “Oh, that snarky unpleasant girl who I can’t ride in the same car as without being threatned?” GUILTY. I wish I could tell them that I am definitely the problem here, not them. Gloriously though, I have found out that I am not alone! This is a REAL DISEASE you guys. It’s called Misophnia. Wikapedia it immediately.

People who talk with food in their mouths, people who breathe loudly. Not liking the sound of people coughing. People who sniffle while I am in a meeting and can’t escape. People who sneeze in their hands and pretend like nothing happened. Or worse, me being next to them while doing so. (I blame my overly neurotic Jewish father for this one. And being a germ freak certainly doesn’t help any). People who smack their lips, people who suck their stupid fingers off from the knuckles up after eating food (UMM ITS CALLED A NAPKIN), slurping, NAIL BITING, coughing, leg tapping, dry feet rubbing together next to you while you’re trying to movie watch, people who don’t wash their hands, people who don’t get it, people who think they get it, people, actually, making noises in general.

So yeah, fine, harsh. I know. Not all of that is true. In reality, I am a genuinely kind hearted person. And I realize that this post doesn’t resinate well with the message I am trying to portray on my blog. I really do look for the good in everyone. Try and make people laugh. Compliment them, magnify their strengths… etc. But this hatred of sound is very, very real and V-E-R-Y debilitating. If you are like me, then you already know. You are crazy too. I know there are much larger problems in the world, and this one only has to do with me, but It is seriously out of my control. I can act fine and sit pretty, but the moment I hear someone pop their gum, I start sweating profusely from my armpits and want to rip all of my hair out.

Take my husband for example, the kindest of souls. Couldn’t harm a fly. A quiet and soft spoken mouse. Nothing that he does annoys me- EXCEPT, THE WAY HE EATS A BANANA. Or, flosses his teeth. The second I hear the reel of oral-B Glide, I have darted into the bedroom like an actual crazy person, to plug my fingers into my ears and hum loudly to myself (until a substantial amount of time has passed), so that I don’t chance hearing the infuriating noise that is dental floss. Ugh. I don’t know why I am this way. Even if you judge me reading this, I don’t care. I can’t help it. At least I have honesty on my side. And somehow, my darling trail mix munching husband can love me unconditionally, bless his heart.

Anytime someone is chewing noisily,  I text the bestie first- to justify the severity of the situation.  “OH MY GOD MADISON, the woman sitting next to me getting a manicure has a tupperware full of fucking almonds in her purse. Yeah, almonds. I know.”

Point is, that my family as well as I, can confirm the reality that is my nonsensical head.

I am one quiet movie theater away from punching a wildly aggressive popcorn eater in the kisser with my stiletto. So please, send help my way.


Self loathing and death glares aren’t going to get you anywhere in life. (Perhaps I should take my own advice).

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