I hate hills. For this I am unapologetic.
I hate pan-roasted oatmeal. I hate corns on an otherwise perfect pedicure. I hate myself for missing that person who left as though they never missed me. I hate when my dog chews on our bed linen. I hate that math is not easy for everyone.
I hate the sound of high heel shoes so worn they click when you walk on tile floors. I hate weeds. I hate the dumb cist that went undetected for years and then ruptured on her liver and spewed poison throughout my mom's body, making her so ill that she never recovered.
I hate panty hose. I hate spinach or salad in my teeth and no toothpick or floss within 800 miles. I hate mopping. I hate vacuuming. I hate dusting. Ok, I hate housework. I hate that baking from scratch takes effort. I hate there are bad side effects to otherwise good medications.
I hate stretch marks and facial hair. I hate black shoes with black socks with khaki shorts and Hawaiian-print shirts. I hate being in a hurry for no apparent reason. I hate not being more disciplined. I hate having the hiccups.
I hate couscous. I hate snakes. I hate indigestion. I hate potholes. I hate being awake when I want to be asleep. I hate the perception that chivalry is dead.
I hate hills - they are tough to run, but I've got to give it the best I've got....