I wake up with a stretch and yawn, only to find that my alarm didn’t go off and I’m now late to work.
I hate that.
I get dressed to go out to dinner and I spill makeup on myself and have to change.
I hate that.
I’m sitting in traffic and a guy in front of me has decided to cut me off, flip me off, and then honk.
I hate that.
I’m trying to log on to Hulu to watch my favorite show but the Internet won’t load.
I just hate that.
Day in and day out I can find things that I hate, we all can. Be it small annoyances or major pet peeves, they are always lurking, ready to ruin a perfectly good mood. And while sometimes we do have those moments, that figurative *light bulb* that opens our eyes to the ridiculousness of ourselves and our drama, do we ever really take notice of how lucky we are to hate the things we hate?
Take wet socks. You know the feeling. It’s Saturday morning and you just woke up; haven’t even bothered to put on pants yet. You stroll into the kitchen, pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios and then you slide across the tile to grab the milk. In mid Apollo Anton Ono glide, you find a puddle. The wetness invades your lazy morning socks, upsets your lazy morning toes, and brings you lamenting on your lazy morning knees. You make sure to tell the story to all of your friends and they all say the same thing with an empathetic shake of the head, “Ah man, I just hate that!”
But which part exactly do we hate?
The access to water that created the puddle?
The ability to live in a house with tile floors and own a pair of socks that makes them fun to slide on?
What about the blessing of a lazy morning?
Or the opportunity to have a good night’s sleep?
Well when you put it like THAT.
Trust me, I get it. I will be the first one to tell you that I take advantage of what I have and take too much time noticing what I don’t. Just the other morning I found myself grinding my teeth when I found that someone had taken my parking spot at work. A PARKING SPOT.
We all have our things that get under our skin and I’m not going to ask you to try and pretend that they don’t. In fact I think we should do quite the opposite: Revel in the things that annoy you, and then silence them with gratitude.
How lucky I am to hate my missed alarm. It means I have to job to get to.
How luck I am to hate changing my outfit before dinner. It means I have more than one pair of clothes.
How lucky I am to hate traffic. It means I have a car and somewhere to go.
How lucky I am to hate the slowness of my Wi-Fi connection. It means I have access to computers, a moment to relax and watch television, and a home where I feel safe to do so.
We are lucky to hate the things we hate, for they are far less dangerous, heartbreaking, and life threatening than many of the problems people around the world have to face each and every day. So the next time you find yourself annoyed, frustrated, or audibly admitting, I just hate that, take another second to look around and be grateful. For there are people with far less to love and far more to hate, and yet they still get up every morning to face the day with a smile.