The thing that pushes my buttons the most is getting ignored. I don't mean that the thing is getting ignored, but that I get ignored. Hate that. When I fought with my mother while growing up, the thing that made me maddest was when she closed me off. Talk to me; work it through; don't close me out...
It ticks me off when my students do that, and maybe that's more an issue of respect. With my mother, it was a sign of her not knowing how to deal with me...or a way of refraining from saying something she'd regret.
I still don't react well to it. The more tired and stressed I become, the worse and more disproportionate my reaction to...ignorance...is. It becomes one of those "world is crashing down on me" moments, which, really, it's not. Maybe it's an earthquake; maybe it is significant. So stand in a doorway, self. Crawl under a table. A bit of ceiling may fall down, but it's not the end of your world.
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