Just, really?

I thought to myself as the guy cut me off:
Just, really?

Under my breath when sauce fell on my cuff:
Just, really?

After the tango, but before the rally:
Just, really?

When I mixed peanut butter with some jelly:
Just, really?

Is there a reason I repeat myself?
Should I keep talking, or should I just shelve
my queries, my complaints, my hopes and my fears?
What would you do, if you had all these years?