Hate

I am freaking out. I find out within 24 hours if I got a residency I really, really want. I don’t like wanting things. It always works out better if you assume that it won’t happen and then you are pleasantly surprised. Low expectations and what not. Ugg. I know I am going to be super disappointed if it doesn’t work out and I hate that. Well, I don’t hate it but I really, really dislike it. I don’t believe in hate. My mom wouldn’t let me use that word as a kid. I write about that a lot and I don’t know who could blame me. I mean, how many 5 year olds do you know walking around proclaiming, “I despise that immensely!” while throwing a hissy-fit.

But let’s just say for a second I did hate things, there would be more than a few things I would put on the list.

Like whistling. I can’t stand it when people whistle. It freaks me out. I feel like only crazy people whistle.

And when people talk to me through the bathroom stall. Don’t do that! It is private time. You can wait a second. I will talk you when we are finished. Eww.

Ethnic slurs. The word ‘retarded’. Guys asking me, “So how tall are you?” Apathy. People screaming at their kids in public.

Getting my hopes up. Letting people down. Feeling guilty because I feel disappointed and my inability to let things go.

I don’t hate these things but I sure don’t like them. You could say I despise them immensely.