[in many ways it still has its place]
hatelife is headphones that randomly emit very high frequency 120 dB noise into one's ears. (this noise is so loud that, even though it is emitted through headphone speakers, it causes one's wife to turn down the television and inquire what that horrible noise was.) hatelife is subsequent specific-frequency hearing loss.
hatelife is the second helping of excellent food that is served approximately two minutes before the first helping hits the gut. hatelife is needing to ask for a to-go box for a homemade meal at a friend's house.
hatelife is being immediately pegged as 'the guy to beat' in a friendly game of speed-scrabble. hatelife is having to use lower-scoring words to prevent one's friends (and spouse) from being mad.
hatelife is being not mentally aware enough to focus on a conversation with: 1) sister; 2) friends (in person); 3) friends (on phone); 4) nearly everyone else.
however.
hatelife is not a lazy sunday at home.
hatelife is not sweet earl gray tea and toasted english muffin. with honey. with a blanket and a good book.
hatelife is not a four-month-old quarter-bobcat kitten (though it might be the manifold scratches on fingers received as a result of playing with the beast).
hatelife is not a newly employed spouse.
hatelife is not recent hatelife activity.
but hatelife is still hatelife.
hatelife is the second helping of excellent food that is served approximately two minutes before the first helping hits the gut. hatelife is needing to ask for a to-go box for a homemade meal at a friend's house.
hatelife is being immediately pegged as 'the guy to beat' in a friendly game of speed-scrabble. hatelife is having to use lower-scoring words to prevent one's friends (and spouse) from being mad.
hatelife is being not mentally aware enough to focus on a conversation with: 1) sister; 2) friends (in person); 3) friends (on phone); 4) nearly everyone else.
however.
hatelife is not a lazy sunday at home.
hatelife is not sweet earl gray tea and toasted english muffin. with honey. with a blanket and a good book.
hatelife is not a four-month-old quarter-bobcat kitten (though it might be the manifold scratches on fingers received as a result of playing with the beast).
hatelife is not a newly employed spouse.
hatelife is not recent hatelife activity.
but hatelife is still hatelife.
3 very splendid and worthwhile comment(s):
hatelife doesn't know whether it should be miffed at this post.
but, hatelife says it does like the attention. even if it is from a site far far far away from hatelife. hatelife doesn't even hold a grudge you left it for another site.
hatelife is the ex you call up for pathetic, no-kissing sex when alone in your house on 11pm on a saturday night.
yikes, i just made me not want to post there anymore.
--oxy
Wait, did a domesticated cat mate with a bobcat at one point?
I didn't realize that uhhh happened. I guess I pictured different sizes...
I feel slightly guilty about leaving hatelife for another while she was in the hospital. we didn't think she'd come out of the coma and now she did and it's weird for everyone, like in that soap opera that one time.
hatelife is my ex, I'll admit. but I just want some love, baby, keep your clothes on.
a quarter-bobcat's existence demands that a domesticated cat did mate with a bobcat at one point. it makes no sense to me, either. I've asked the interweb for details but the pictures I find are less than helpful.
do not post a comment (or not).
do not go home (the grass is always greener).