Every creative writing teacher that I've ever had, always says this one thing: Show, don't tell. I get that. I'm supposed to use descriptive language and imagery. Sometimes, though, I just want to tell.
Today, I'm a hater. I have a list of things that I hate. But don't worry or feel like you have to tell me all is well, for tomorrow, it could be completely different! I may love these things! That's how I am. I think I have a little bit of the schizophrenia (that's for you, Lisa).
Melinda's Hater's List:
I hate washing, loading, unloading dishes two to three times a day. Seriously? How many dishes do we need? I don't use that many, hell...I don't even have time to eat most days. Unless it's a handful of something...no dish needed.
I hate laundry. Not so much the loading the washer or the dryer, but the folding.
I hate cleaning. Seems like that's all I do, every minute of the day. But yet, at the end of the day, everything feels yucky. Maintaining. That's all I'm doing.
I hate my bedspread. I want a new one. But then I would have to paint my bedroom and buy new furniture and who has the money for that?
I hate flies. That's reason Number 1 that I won't be sorry to see summer leave.
I hate slugs (that's for you, Diahn).
I hate my pudgy stomach. Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but today, I'm especially unhappy with the pudge.
I hate that I'm a procrastinator. Thus, the pudge.
I hate dogs. Really, shoot me now, animal lovers. I'm not one. They're just someone, or something, else to take care of. Call the humane society.
I hate dust. Where does it come from?
I hate that we live in a country that absolutely idolizes sports. Especially the south. Sports are supposed to be fun. Besides, I feel left out on most Saturdays from late August to mid-January.
I hate the whirring sound that the ceiling fans in my living room make.
I hate door slammers. Easy does it, Bluto.
I hate those Progressive Insurance commercials with the peppy, heavy eye-lined saleswoman. Shut-up, already! It's just insurance! We know we're getting screwed! You can't make it cute! Hello?
I hate the Geico money stack with the weird eye-balls commercial...see the above.
I hate popcorn ceilings. My entire house has popcorn ceilings. Hello, 2009! What's new?
I hate complainers. Yes, I realize the irony.
I hate how some days are insanely busy from dawn to dusk, and yet, nothing feels accomplished. And nothing that was accomplished, has anything to do with me (that's for you, Crystal).
I hate my old, tired mattress. It's been moved so many times, and dropped on highways so many times from said moves, that it has more sags and tears than...well, me, I guess.
I hate people from high school who never, ever, ever, ever spoke to me and yet, keep requesting me to be their friend on Facebook. Like they're collecting snow-globes. Or moths on the ends of straight-pens. Get a life and get out of mine. That means you, Larry Bates!
I hate that my towels keep disappearing. Don't even get me started on socks.
I'm sure I could go on and on, but I hate when people do that (more irony). And besides, I think I've purged enough so that I can possibly sleep...on my tired, crappy mattress.
I promise to negate this list very soon with a things that I love list...I promise. Just not promising when. Might be a few days.
The tide always turns.