Tuesday Hatred: At this late date
It has been a long time since I have helmed this feature, which I originated as the successor to the griping-based gimmick that anchored my original web page as well. It’s been over a year that young Wolfson has led you in your petty complaining, and he has done well. Today, however, he is unavailable, and you are stuck with me.
I hate waking up in the morning. Every morning, no longer how much I’ve slept or how soundly, I hate the thought of getting out of bed. Yet there is an apparently paradoxical, related thing that I hate: I am increasingly unable to sleep in. Even after an entire summer of sleeping without an alarm clock, I can barely make it past nine. Whence this self-undermining sloth? At the same time, I hate it on those rare occasions when I do sleep in, as my day seems to have failed before it even began.
I hate waking up and having to go to the bathroom, because I very frequently attempt to ignore or suppress that need, thereby guaranteeing myself a night of fitful sleep. I also hate the incredibly freaky dreams that I’ve been having, and their after-effects in my half-waking life, as when I dreamed there were rats under my bed and remained convinced of this upon awaking at 3am.
I hate that my hair constantly grows, because I hate getting a haircut. I hate that every time I break down and get one (as is likely to happen today), I think to myself, “Wow, it’d be so much nicer if I’d just get more frequent haircuts.” It’s never going to happen, though, readers, because I am stupid.
I hate mildew. I hate it when a dish is placed in the sink in a position where it can collect water. I hate any kind of standing water that collects of itself, unmediated by human will. (So for instance, filling up a pot with water to soak is acceptable, as long as the pot is then put somewhere that additional water will not incidentally drip into it.)
I hate it when the lid of the garbage can gets moldy. I hate that plastic Tupperware-style containers, when put through the dishwasher, do not become dry during the dry cycle. I hate that we have been reusing plastic plates, originally bought for a long-ago party, as though they were regular plates, because we do not have any small-sized plates for those situations when the standard size is too large. Needless to say, those plastic plates also fail to dry during the dry cycle.
I hate the thought of packing, with all the little incidental objects that pile up like insults throughout the process — the kind of things where you are tempted to say, “I didn’t even know I had this, and now I have to move it?”
I hate that the settings for iTunes always reset whenever I upgrade it. I hate that its shuffle feature appears to become stuck in a cycle of five albums, with no apparent way to convince it to act otherwise. I hate that they removed the old randomness calibrator, where you could select your preferred level, bounded by the hypothetical cases of a song potentially playing twice in a row or else going through your entire collection before anything would be repeated. In general, I hate it when features are removed.
I hate printing. There have been personal computers for decades now, so presumably they’ve had time to perfect the technology — yet it’s always on the verge of becoming a total disaster.
I hate concern trolls.
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