I don't actually hate writing articles, exactly. Sometimes they're a breeze and I can whip out as many as four in an hour (that's 2,ooo words - this happens rarely, though) Three an hour is more like it. But sometimes, like yesterday, I can't even do two.
What I hate is at dinner time being only halfway through my article writing because they're mostly about cappuccino and espresso makers and my research on the subject necessarily begins with this search: "What is cappuccino/espresso". You know it's going to be slow going when you have to ask for definitions of the keywords.
Then I hate finally allowing my starving self to go make my favorite dinner ever (Skillet Ziti with Chicken and Broccoli, so simple but I cannnooooot stop eating it) for a break, only to find that I can't start cooking until I wash about every dish in the kitchen and clean up, too.
I also hate when I've finally got the dishes done and look down and see the SAME crushed pretzel lying on the kitchen floor that I have not been sweeping up for two days because I've been on the verge of vacuuming any minute now (for two days) and I decide something MUST be done about it right this minute, as I slowly waste away in my hunger. Instead of pulling out the the dustpan and little broom I get out the vacuum and proceed to vacuum the entire downstairs. Then I decide to mop the entire downstairs too, before heading back into the kitchen to finally get dinner started.
I love sneaking away from my writing occasionally to read excellent posts about good friends meeting each other for the first time and their adventures.
I love when I'm stressfully trying to wash those dishes quickly so I don't pass out or die of starvation before I can get dinner made, and Greg comes in and tells me something that cheers me up/horrifies me. He's been really sick and he had to go see his accountant in town. When he went in the office he told her right away, "I'm not going to shake your hand because I haven't been feeling well since I returned from a trip to Mexico." She literally pushed off away from her desk and started stuttering. Greg, being the evil person that he is, wanted to continue and pretend he hadn't heard about swine flu, but thought better of it and told her he was kidding. What a terrible joke.
I love freshly vacuumed and mopped floors.
I love eating Skillet Ziti with Chicken and Broccoli.