A Novel Difficulty, or, In which I realise that not liking someone has become an Unusual Sensation

Let me preface this (and explain the title somewhat), by explaining that I used to consider myself a misanthrope. Then I realized I actually do like (or can at least tolerate) most people, even if they do make me tired. I also used to think that people irritated me because they could not keep up and had a distressing tendency to not know the words I was using (why hello arrogant genius time tag, haven't seen you in a while…). That actually is true, but time and practice have made me, if not actually more patient, more tolerant of the fact that most people aren't going to operate on the same level I do in some respects*. So these days I mostly get on with people, and I find I generally like the people I come into contact with in my dealings with the world at large. Recently I have encountered a rare exception to that rather pleasant trend.

( And then this entry got a lot longer than I expected. )