I have a headache today, it is raining, and I am in not so much of a good mood. I have had this damned headache for about 4 days now, and frankly, it is getting quite old. When you have a headache for a long period of time, you try and keep yourself busy and as entertained as can be, for fear of actually enjoying some peace and quiet, and letting that foul pain re-enter your mind. And once it does, there is no going back. You are there, right in the middle of an awful mood, with no end in sight. It is times like these when The Hate starts to eat at your psyche.

I hate rain. It makes my bones ache. It is awful to have aching bones at such a young age, and yet somehow, you feel like you deserve it. I hate it when my mail-person leaves the flap up on my mailbox, allowing all the damned rain to come in and soak my correspondence. I hate it when the garbage person leaves the top of my garbage container up so that it can fill with rain all day, leaving me a nice, sloshy mess of frozen meal packages, cat shit, and poisonous rainwater to dump into the street, only to have it splash back on me. I love shopping on Amazon, but that is only because I hate dealing with people like me at stores.

I hate it when people walk around with those stupid Bluetooth Earpieces attached to their cellphones, bumbling about my store, talking much too loudly about stupid, awful things that not even the person on the other end of the phone cares about. I hate it when guys walk around with their pants around their ass, and then have to physically hold up their clothes while they walk, one hand on their horrible little package, and one on their cellphone, yelling at the top of their lungs to someone who is supposed to be the Woman In Their Life about how "it don't matter what I do", and "I'm'a do whatever I feel like doing, B—-!". In general, I hate it when men refer to women as anything derogatory at all. You are supposed to respect your wife or girlfriend. But who really gives a damn about that anymore? I hate that there is no respect left in this world.

I hate that I cannot go into a pawn shop to buy some junkie's old CDs (sold when another hit was needed) without having a fat white guy wearing shorts that are big enough to look like a pair of Gigantor-Capri Pants park next to me and take up two spaces with his piece of crap car that has 22-Inch, $800 rims attached it. I hate it when this same idiot gets out of his car and starts yelling to someone on his cellphone, at the top of his lungs, (drowning out the noises of 6 lanes of traffic) about how the person on the other end should "come get him" and using every form of the F-Bomb that is known to uncivilized man. I hate that the woman at the counter has to explain (notice… not apologize) for this man's actions, by saying, "That's my fiancé… he's yellin' at muh Ex-Hus-bund… he came an' stoled our 27-inch teevee… Yeah, it wuz a flat screen…"

I hate even more that this human debris had actually popped out a child about 3 to 4 years ago, and that this innocent little girl was there, in the pawn shop, to witness this whole event.

I hate it when you buy boxers in your size, and they don't fit right. I hate trying to find a pair of shoes that don't look like something that either a heartless, ruthless Guy In A Tie or some overpaid, idiot Pro Basketball player would wear. I hate when your glasses break. I hate being so damned blind that I can barely see well enough to fix my own glasses when they do break. I hate being cold. I hate the fact that I have to think about being able to afford turning the heat up. I hate people at work who steal your step-stool, making it… not impossible… but tougher to do your job. I hate the fact that I had to buy a bike lock to keep these jackals away from my stuff.

I hate the fact that I have cleaned the catbox more, now that we bought the $100 LitterMaid De-Luxe, than I ever did when I had the $4.00 litter box.

I hate it that the evening "Entertainment" shows assume that you know who they are talking about when they rattle of a list of names: "We'll tell you the latest on Brad, Ben, Jennifer, Ashton, and Christina… when we come back!" And I hate it that much more when I realise that I do know who they are talking about. I hate the fact that I, through no fault of my own, possess knowledge about celebrities. It is taking up space in my brain that I'm pretty sure used to hold real, tangible knowledge. I hate it that people, in general, know more about Brad, Ben, Jennifer, et. al. than they do about this current administration, or the wool it has been trying to pull over the American people's collective eyes for years.

And more than that… I hate the fact that no one seems to care.