I changed my mind. Whatever I thought was the single most annoying thing in the world is not, in fact, so terrible. I opted to wear a pair of nice shorts today, one that I hadn't worn since May. And in the three months since I'd worn the fuckers, I'd completely forgotten why I wasn't wearing them. That would be because the seam around the left leg suddenly and unexpectedly came unraveled. Which in turn caused the seam, a fancy invisible seam on the inside, to no longer hold the centimeter or so of fabric. Which in turn caused the shorts not only to look uneven, but to be rather awkward to wear. Because I couldn't sew the thing back together myself, I had simply opted to not wear the shorts until I figured out what to do about them. But oh no, I didn't remember any of that this morning when, in my morning stupor, I decided brown shorts would be a nice change of pace from the usual lighter fabric I seem to end up wearing all the time.
All was well until, suddenly, I felt something light blow across my leg and flit away. I brushed it away. And it returned. And I brushed. Lather, rinse, repeat, for the rest of the day. I guess I never thought about how annoying it would be to constantly feel that light brushing sensation against my skin, and not for eleven hours, at that. And since you, dear reader, are probably dying to know what it feels like, I'll tell you: it feels like something between a tickle and a windy sensation blowing across your skin, and instead of getting used to the feeling, it gets steadily more intense, until the point at which you suddenly snap and the next person who says "How's your day?" to you will suddenly and unexpectedly be knocked backwards by your sucker punch, and you'll be shouting "How does it feel, now, motherfucker!!!", only instead of shouting this at said unwitting antagonist, you'll be yelling at your nerve-shot left leg. And then when you find out that none of your actions actually alleviated the sensation on your leg, you seriously contemplate just ditching the shorts right there in public, feeling that walking around in your underwear beats walking around feeling like you want to saw your own leg off, public decency be damned.