I hate dehydration.

Some advice: Do not attempt to rehydrate yourself after a five-mile run with Diet Coke.

I think I can feel my skin wrinkling.

I hate bad days.

I don't have them very often. I'm pretty happy for the most part. But today was a very very very bad day. It only promises to get better, but for the past eight hours? WORST DAY EVER.




And lucky Tyler got to listen to me bitch about it allllll day.

I hate leaving the house when it's still dark.

The nice thing about Daylight Savings Time in Chicago is that it's usually light when I leave my house to go to work. Of course, when you're not making any money and thus are forced to work nine-hour days to make up the difference in overtime hours, you spend most of your daylight hours in a cubicle far, far way from natural light. It's like the perfect equation for Seasonal Affective Disorder.

When you leave the house at six and don't get home until six, you begin to miss your college days of waking up at ten.

Thank God I only have to do this for three more days.

I hate when my sink is full.

Because when it's full, everything in it is dirty. And when everything in my sink is dirty, that means someone needs to clean it all. And the one someone who lives here is lazy and would prefer finishing The Blind Assassin to cleaning dishes.

And I'm not even enjoying The Blind Assassin very much. Sci-fi subplots are not very entertaining.

I hate oatmeal pumpkin cookies. Right now at least.

Oh, oatmeal pumpkin cookies, you were a good dinner last night! And an excellent, fiber-filled breakfast this morning! But now I've eat 12 of you in less than 24 hours and I am stuck to the couch. The rest of you are in the trash. I can never look at you again.

I hate in-between-medication time.

I hate when you take non-drowsy stuff all day for a cold and then 2 hours before you want to go to bed, it all wears off. And you want to take something -- you need to take something -- because you like to breathe but if you take non-drowsy OTC medicine then you'll be up 2-4 hours later than you want and if you take the nighttime stuff, you're out like a light at 7 p.m.

Good night.

I hate when CVS loses my prescription ...

... and then acts like it's my fault.

I hate: a litany.

I hate never having time to clean my apartment.

I hate ten-hour work days.

I hate my haircut.

I hate my hairdresser.

I hate eating oatmeal for dinner because I have nothing else to eat.

I hate Marlboros.

I hate waking up before the alarm.

Today was supposed to be a later-than-usual start with me, because my flight doesn't leave until noon. So I set my alarm for 7 a.m., thinking that gave me plenty of time for sleep and packing and getting to the airport.

And then my body woke me up at 1:30. Which began a wee-early-morning-hours trend. First it was a nightmare about missing my flight. Then it was a nightmare about losing someone important. Then it was a dream involving cornflakes that was, at the time, disturbing for some reason. Then there was a nightmare that Southwest lost my luggage. Then continued dreams about things going wrong at work until finally, at 5:30 a.m., I gave up.

All those lost hours of sleep. Sigh.