It sounds so snobby to say that you hate working with the public because it almost seems to infer that you are not part of the public, but above. The private.

People are amazing if you look hard enough, but I’m lazy and it can be so much easier to just be annoyed. This is my problem, the desire for immediacy. It’s why I can't finish my articles, why my clothes never make it to the hamper or the closet, why my life drowns in mediocrity.

But sometimes the utter inanity of other people, particularly at work or at proper, dressy social events, get to me so much that I imagine taking my keys out of my purse and stabbing them into my jugular just to shake things up. The need that some people have to process things externally. As if they don't have functioning brains, they must SPEAK every thought they're having, or else they'd turn into actual nothingness.

Today’s Inane Person: You’re using a space heater. You must be cold.
Me: Yes.