9.21 15 The life of a snittishest

There are times when we know someone and we like someone and we care about someone, and they're just having a snit of a time. They are having snits and getting into snits and falling amongst snits and running up to and bashing into snitdom.

And sometimes, while they seem bound and determined to snit themselves away, you just have to let them. And there they are, howling and feeling for all the world like the whole of the earth is one huge sucky lousy snit. As they seem to peel their eyes, scouring the horizon each new day for snit-worthy stuff. 

You begin to notice that they have their snit-seeking sneakers on, and their snit medals of worthy-of-any-snit-dilemma, which they may or may not buff when the sun falls and darkness comes. 

And you know the best thing, if you can't talk to them about the snitdom they have taken up court in because you are unwilling to do snit choruses and snittish duets with them snittishly, is to let them be. 

Feel generously about them. No gossiping or railing or whining. Care about them while they snit seek and have snit outrage and become snit-besotted and snit railed and slowly that snit-exhaustion sets in. 

Know them a bit more peripherally while they are snitting things up, and rolling about in snittish stuff while wailing about how awful the snittish stuff is. 

And who knows? Maybe some bright sun-crested morning, you'll wake up and go about the business of having your life and your day, and come to find that they have grown tired of the life of snit, and have decided in a dispirited snit-deterred fashion to come back to the snitless complex realm of living life.