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When there are so many things in life to love, why do I focus on things I hate? I don’t know, but I hate it when I question myself like that.
In my case, the little things in life are what presses my hate button. Take, for example, the other day. I pull into a parking lot that can easily handle 500 cars. There are five cars in the lot. I’ve barely turned the car off and a woman pulls in right next to me, so close that my passenger has to squeeze out the door.
I hate when that happens. I also hate these things:
North Dakota. I saw it once. From a train. I’m glad the train was moving. Fast.
Mondays. I suspect I’m not alone in my hate of Mondays. I also suspect I know the reason and it has to do with work. A friend of mine recently retired. He said this to me: “The best thing about being retired is not having to go to work on Monday.”
I hate it when people tell me I look tired. This is code for “you don’t look great.” There is no good reason to tell someone they look tired. The other day I told someone she looked tired and instantly regretted it.
Stilt walkers. I hate them because it always looks like they are going to fall down and it puts me on edge. Truth be told, I’ve seen my share of stilt walkers and never have I seen one take a tumble. But If I ever have the opportunity to talk with a stilt walker, I will speak one word: “Why?”
Washing dishes is something else I hate, which is why I never do it. There is a reason someone invented paper plates and plastic cups. To that person I say this: “thank you.”
I hate when waiters, waitresses and bartenders ask, “Do you need any change?” I probably should say, “I just gave you a twenty dollar bill for one bottle of beer. What do you think?”
Speaking of beverages, I hate eggnog. I’ve never actually tasted eggnog, but can tell from its name and appearance that I hate it.
Go back to the last sentence and the word “its.” I hate it when people confuse “its” and “it’s. I’m equally hateful when it come to mixing up “too,” “to” and “two.” A lawyer I know wrote something the other day and used “to” instead of “too.” I’m sorry. He might have a great legal mind but I don’t want him defending me.
Student protest. I hate that. Get a job, get a real life and then protest to your heart’s content.
Mimes creep me out and I hate that creepy feeling.
Which reminds me of clowns. Happy clowns are fine, if you are at a circus, but I don’t want to see one walking down Main Street in the middle of the day. And there are some clown faces that shouldn’t even be in the circus.
Which reminds me of face painting. That’s great if you are a girl in elementary school, but I hate to see adult women with butterflies, rainbows, flowers or animals painted on their face.
I hate the over the top happy back and forth banter between hosts on radio shows. Then there’s their laughter. Nobody is that happy.
I hate it when someone says, “Let me make this short and simple.” Nothing is ever short and simple. And when someone uses the “short and simple” phrase, you can bet it isn’t going to be good news.
Grown men playing the air guitar. I have the same one word question for them as I have for the stilt walkers.
I hate flying on foreign airlines. In fact, if the pilots can’t speak English, yours truly isn’t getting on. The same philosophy holds true for restaurant meals. If I can’t pronounce it, I’m not eating it.
I’ve probably ruffled some weathers with some of the above. But I hope you don’t hate me. Life is too short for hate.