Today I hate that I am going to be 49 years old on my next birthday. I would rather be 35.
Today I hate that there are specific areas in my life where I still worry about what people think.
Today I hate that the physical therapist said I need to see her three days a week for my screwed up shoulder. Hmmph! That is what she thinks. I have YouTube.
Today I hate that my son's pants are ripped at the hem and that he does not own one pair of shoes not riddled with dog teeth. He still doesn't know what closets are for and my dogs are idiots.
Today I hate that I have conjoined pimples on my chin. They hurt. I want them to die a horrible death, leaving me unscathed.
Today I hate that a bean bag erupted in my hallway. A CHEAP bean bag.
Today I hate that I started this really great blog post and got stuck. Now look at me - writing a temper tantrum.
Today I hate that I may have to be on medication for the rest of my days.
Today I hate that I have to drive in the rain. Again.
Today I hate that I worry about my oldest son walking home from school just because he doesn't look like a little boy anymore.
Today I hate that I locked myself out of my online credit card account. Stupid passwords.
Hurray for me!