It's An "I Hate Me" Kind of Day

I hate me, myself and I today.  It's my blog and I am just gonna put it out there.  I read all these amazing blogs written by people.  These blogger folks are highly trained it appears in technology, photography, raising kids, bearing their souls, ad infinitum.  And part of them are making a living doing what they do.  Others do not.  Like me.  I spend hours reading their blogs, trying recipes, trying techniques of geekness and photography.  I wind up hating me.  Here are a few of my top self-loathings:

• I hate the fact that I lived my life full bore ahead, most times in the wrong direction.  
• I hate that my passions have never been fruitful in a monetary way.  
• I hate that the cash flow seemed to be outward bound, seldom inward bound toward my checking account. 
• I hate that monetary value is how I am supposed to measure my worth according to our society.
• I hate that I am a resounding failure at that part of life.  
• I hate that all the talents I have were left only half developed.  
• I hate I never disciplined myself to became proficient enough to be 'marketable'.

• I hate that the yard, which was my focus for so many of the early 'empty nest' years, is now like a mill stone around my neck.  
• I hate my body is not cooperative when it comes to yard  maintenance anymore.  
• I hate that it is perfect yard work weather.  
• I hate that my body whispers, "Do it.  Then I'll make you pay dearly tonight and tomorrow.  
• Shoulder
• Back
• Ankles
• Arches
• Just sayin'."  
• I hate my damn, snarky body.

• I hate that I wanted to smoke that cigarette one night in 1991.
• I hate that I walked onto the front stoop and missed the bottom step.  
• I hate that the ensuing fall left my ankle sprained, swollen and apparently, permanently damaged.  
• I hate that it is hurting today.  
• I hate my ankle
• I frequently occasionally hate that I gave up smoking. 
• I hate that some days I miss the pleasure of slowly inhaling
• And exhaling.
• Ok, I just inhaled and exhaled plain air.

• It was fine but not the same
• It did not feel, you know, a little naughty.

• I hate that I want to be naughty sometimes.  
• I hate I just say out loud what everyone else is thinking but are too educated and self controlled to say.  
• Stuff like the nursery staff cannot do childcare in a room without toys, beds, pallets, etc.  
• Stuff like we need to allow people to die sometimes. 
•  I do not mean purposely pulling the plug, but, Christ, do not make them (me) linger in diapers in a bed. 
• As my Uncle Clay demanded of my mom and his daughter, "Just let me die!"  
• They did and he did within a short time. 
•  I hate I say the words no one else wants to say
• I hate when I see the disapproval
• And I hate myself for having said the thing no one else would say.
• I hate seeking approval.

• I hate how I look at stuff, things, situations, processes, whatever and try to make it more efficient or better. 
• I hate that the 4-H motto, "To make the best better", is no longer socially acceptable in lots of circumstances. 
• I hate suggesting for instance printing envelopes with the return address instead of printing sheets of labels that have to be applied to the envelopes.
• "Oh, no, we cannot do that.  What would the volunteers have to do then?" says the secretary of an organization. 
• I'm so sorry, I thought we were short of volunteers.  
• Or maybe they could be freed up to do something besides 'busy work'. 
• Maybe it is not just my body that is snarky.

• I hate that I have few social skills.  
• Cracking jokes goes only so far.  
• I hate that I like, want, need to be liked.  
• I hate that I do not give a crap if someone likes me or not other times.
• I love hate being am snarky  

• I hate that I have anxiety attacks while riding in traffic

• I hate that I yell and/or gripe:
• At my husband.
• He is a saint for living with me for 46+ years
• He still puts stuff in the wrong place I want stuff put.
• At my grandsons.
• They are just kids needing to try limits.
• They can try my limits.
• At my 95 year old Mom.
• She is just tired.
• I hate knowing she is really me in 28 years.  
• Refer Uncle Clay quote above.

• I hate my inability to spell and having to 'trust' spell checkers.
• The spell checker for this blog site is the 'expert' on spelling.  
• Spell check said the ad infinitum was misspelled
• It was not.
• I was right cause I did learn something in two years of Latin.

• I hate I have made so many bad choices that I no longer trust my self.

• I hate my impatience.

• I hate that at many points in my life I thought I could make a difference.
• I hate that I did not recognize when I did.
• I hate there has to be a second bullet in outlines.

• I hate being both self-loathing and narcissistic at the same time.
• I hate that today I shall just wallow in it.
• I hate not having anything better to think about than me.
• I hate thinking I am smarter than some people.
• I hate thinking about how ignorant I am.
• I hate the list formatting is not cooperating today.
• I will not redo one more time.
• Note above impatience.
• I hate being a perfectionist
• I hate that crap happens that keeps perfection at bay.
• I hate not being in control of my universe.

Well, now, doesn't that feel better.  Maybe tomorrow I will write about what I like about me.  If I can figure out something that I do. Like. About. Me.

SERENITY

Original photo by Janice Adcock, Cape Cod, Mass, October, 2005.