You can’t avoid irksome things. And when you’re irked, it makes you do something. They aren’t the best way to get moving. But you can count on them cropping up. They are like the little stones that show up in your shoe. Stepping on one of those stones leads you to empty your shoe. What irks me? Start with the environment. I say something about robots, AI, noise, ads, and tiny iconic men. The irksome things I can’t forget are incidents from personal history. They include getting a Jack-in-the-box, sayings on proscenium arches, The Draft Board lady, and used clothes on the poor. I suppose reliving irks from the past are part of my identity. Twenty-six of them came to mind. I sat down to write this book, and there they were.

Raymond Kolcaba is gifted with irksome things. He didn’t realize their importance until he retired. When they disturbed his peace of mind, he didn’t let them go to waste. He used his background as a teacher of philosophy to make sense of them. The result is this book about being in an irritating environment and being ambushed by annoyances from past life.