Tuesday, February 20, 2007

hate.

hate is a strong word. therefore, i am going to sprinkle it throughout this post with abandon.

i hate canker sores. especially ones at the way back of your mouth, that you can feel pretty much whenever you're moving your jaw at all, and thus it's throbby and uncomfortable pretty much all the time.

i hate the way my lips stay chapped - wicked chapped - regardless of how much water i drink or how much aquaphor i use. painful, splitting, aching, bleeding chapped.

i hate piles of old snow with a black coating of grime and city-ness on them.

i hate that instead of feeling happy for a co-worker who might be getting a promotion (to a position in which i have no interest), i feel frustrated that someone so markedly younger than me and with easily half the experience will be considered my equal if not technically my superior.

i hate that i also resent that she'll get a raise.

i hate that the money BoyCat and i bring in every month in DC only goes about two-thirds as far as it went in chicago.

i hate that i worry about that so much, and so often.

i hate that i had to wait 40 fucking minutes for a train after leaving work.

i hate that all of this means that i probably won't have the energy or focus to write a post on what earlier deemed a worthy and interesting topic of discussion: britney and her sinead o'rebellion, and how it's fascinating that after all the shenanigans and sloppy behavior she's engaged in, it's her stepping outside the bounds of typical feminine aesthetics that makes everyone truly concerned for her well-being. what's that all about, exactly?

except that i am too stress-ball-in-my-chest frustrated to think it through, at least right now. maybe after dinner and a good, strong drink.

oh, did i mention how i hate that there's still no wine in the house?

but for that one, i blame myself mostly.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

I hate that I'm not even 40 and already I'm plagued with several bizarre health problems that cause my doctor to just throw up his hands and say "I dunno".

I hate that I can no longer sleep through the night without having to change positions 500 times.

I hate that I can't even get to sleep most nights without first having a couple of mild anxiety attacks about my career and our finances.

I hate that Dick Cheney still thinks he's right.

I hate that, twice now, I've bought what was considered a "fast" car at the time only to have automakers keep pumping out faster and more powerful cars so that my car's performance seems ho-hum halfway through the loan.

I hate that I still care so much about whose car is faster than mine.

I hate that I have to make a conscious effort to relax.

kate.d. said...

see toast, it's fun, right? cataloguing hate as stress-relief exercise - i like it. verbalize, verbalize! :)

I hate that I have to make a conscious effort to relax.

yes, indeed, this is my life. i am working on digging into why it is so impossible for me to "go with the flow," and why i cling so tightly to my Type A tendencies.

Anonymous said...

i am working on digging into why it is so impossible for me to "go with the flow," and why i cling so tightly to my Type A tendencies.

I'm approaching the problem from a physical perspective: Become aware of tension someplace in my body and force myself to relax.

"You're hunching your shoulders. Stop it. Let your arms hang loose."

"You're walking stiff legged. Sink your stance and center yourself."

"STOP GRINDING YOUR DAMNED TEETH!"

We'll see if this yields anything. I know that the self-analysis route hasn't yielded anything much yet, so it can't hurt to try the soma side of the psychosomatic coin.

Anonymous said...

Oh yeah: I hate that you're not coming to TartFest.

kate.d. said...

i know, i know, i'm sorry! but we will be up in nyc sooner or later, and maybe we can convince you and tracy to swing down...

Anonymous said...

maybe we can convince you and tracy to swing down...

Name the date, kate. We'll make the time.

Hey, maybe we could all four of us go to a Yankees game!