I hate nylons/pantyhose. Whatever you call them. I hate them. Yes hate is a strong word but lets face it. I hate them. I hate that I am on my second pair of pantyhose for the day and already have a run in them. GRRR.
I hate that I have to write things down otherwise I will forget them. I hate that about myself. I hate that I am still wearing my work clothes and I am not at work.
I kinda hate the fact that I am still single after all this time. However that could mean that I am really picky. Or it could mean that I just choose loser guys and figure it out about 3 weeks into it and then I dump them.
I hate that I have no motivation for school. Honestly I really hate that. I really enjoy school. I enjoy being a librarian. I enjoy my students at the mortuary school.
I hate when the students ask their teacher for resources for a vague assignment when I am standing right there and can successfully provide them with what they need.
I hate knowing a small piece of information and not the whole picture.
I hate not knowing if I am going to be ok.
Can you tell that I am one huge scared child?
I hate everything and it is because I am scared shitless.
I have never worked in the real world. Living with your mom while working full time does not equal the real world. more later...