We woke up at the break of dawn—well, maybe not quite the break of dawn, but it certainly felt like it. My dad and I left at seven in the morning for our four-hour car ride to the cottage. The sun had just come up above the trees as we left our house, and the grass was dressed with a splash of morning dew. We were off for a weekend of family, water skiing, and happy hours.

On our journey, we stopped at Price Choppers to get some food for the cottage. That’s when we decided to reward our early morning progress with a breakfast for champions. It included some hand-picked donuts and a prepackaged assortment of berries. The donuts were warm, soft, and some of the best we have ever had. We had placed the fruit in the center console so it was accessible to both of us. We continued driving while we picked on the fruit and ate a donut here and there. The number of donuts consumed will be kept a secret, for that is unimportant and slightly embarrassing.

The problematic part of this breakfast was the little plastic grab bags that you get at a grocery store to pick out the donuts. Of course we had one for every single donut, so they seemed to add up and collect on top of the dashboard in front of me. These small insignificant things were eating away at me. Making our delicious breakfast a bit less satisfying and a bit more annoying.

They created a small layer of clutter that I could not ignore. I could not even hold an in-depth conversation because I was just staring at them like a lion stares at his prey. Watching every little move they make. In this case I was watching the bowl of fruit slowly diminish. I personally was done eating. I was patiently waiting for my dad to finish the fruit off so I could make it a trash bowl for these stupid plastic grab bags.

I finally broke down and asked, “Are you going to eat those?” I had to ask after five or so minutes of starring and barely paying any attention to the conversation we were having. My dad simply responded with, “You’re dying to put the trash in it, aren’t you?” He was absolutely right. We died laughing because he knew that I was itching to clean up and get everything organized. Clutter and disorganization are my pet peeves.

I may or may not be OCD, but that does not matter. The incident made me realize that pet peeves create an itch. The itch to do something, make a change, or resolve a problem. It takes all your attention away from the world around you. Time seems to slow down like it does at the end of class.When the clock seems to stop ticking altogether. I realized that pet peeves can consume someone's attention making it hard for you to focus on anything else, just like it did to me.

Whenever it is possible to act on your pet peeve, I suggest you do, so life can continue as it was prior. It seems ridiculous to think something so simple can be so distracting but it is all it takes. I guess, the small things in life really can affect you the most.