Hatred is a terribly destructive emotion. I thought at one point that it could be good at times, or justified at times, but I don't think so any more. I think hate is terribly, terribly negative and no amount of justification will ever make it ok. I hate the fact that I hate. Is that irony?
We all say we hate things from time to time. "I hate spinach!" "I hate boys!" "I hate girls!" "I hate you!" How often do we really mean them? I know I've used it casually many a time - "I hate the Eagles" "I hate Pillsbury" "I hate stupid people" and I've rarely meant it as such. It's silly and stupid.
I hate very few things, I think. But I think I hate her. Sigh.
Getting stuff done finally. Need to go pick up my 1 year old soon, since my wife is too sick to bring him back here. Sigh. Nothing like a 4 hour side trip* to ruin any chances of getting anything useful done today. Woot.
* - I've never been there before, so I have no idea how long it actually takes, but I've heard (from her) it's a four hour round trip. Or maybe she said it was longer. I forget. I'm still a little unsure on the "whys" of her choice to move out there. Wotevah. Baaaalaaagggghhhhhhheerrhghhhhrhhh**...
** (Update) - Can you believe Baaaalaaagggghhhhhhheerrhghhhhrhhh isn't in the spell-checker's dictionary? LAME.
...you shall all refer to me as the Right Reverend Most Holy Nicholas, Minister and High Priest. Or Nicholas. Whichever you prefer. Either works for me.
I AM A GOLDEN FROG!!!
Turn the beat around!
Turn it upside down!
*shakes his groove thang*
* - Procrastination is a fine art, which I have studied and worked at for years. I am still far from a master, but few can best me at it**.
** - Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The radio is fun.
-- The Unaljspammer
I'm back! 3 hours - and it could've been even less had I ignored my wife's directions from the start and just gone my own way. *dances around to the Beastie Boys*
Anyway, dinner's on the stove, the baby's hungry, and I gots me some kids tae take care of. CIAO!
- Laundry: drying
- Kids: fed
- Baby: asleep
- Boy: playing until bedtime
- Me: kicking ass
I just laundered my son's permission slip that was supposed to get turned in tomorrow. Fuck fuck fuck. Fortunately it was the "second notice" so maybe I can find the first one he brought home somewhere. DAMN.
Update: I just read the damn thing (I found the first notice) and he won't be going to school the day of the trip. So that was easy. I just wrote a note to the teacher informing her of that, he can turn that in, instead. Saves me the $7 fee too.