sound proof soul

I wish I didn't mind the sound of chewing. But I do. It is very high on my pet peeve list. I don't like that I have such ordinary pet peeves. Seems like a shameful waste to spend so much energy getting irritated by another person nourishing himself, enjoying his meal, partaking of the fruits of the land. Shit like that. I should be moved to rage by poverty and injustice and harm to children. Not chewing. Ridiculous.

I am listening to my mate, my love, the future father of my children, scrape his bowl with his spoon and slosh his chicken chili around with his tongue, and as much as I love him, I want to punch him square in the face. I want to punch him hard.

His mouth is closed. He isn't being rude.

So sound sensitive. Like my brain and my body have limited space. Sound consumes too much, and I am cranky as all get out. Quiet, please. I need bigger ears. Or smaller ears. I need a sound-proof soul and an impenetrable mood.

Maybe I just need wine.