I hate that my car is the same model as a police car but known issues are only warrantied for the cops' cars. I hate that I had to repair my central AC last week; had to buy two new tires this week, have them installed, new ones rotated to the front, $70, and the next time I drove the car there were new noises. Now the tire installer says I need rear brakes and have a bad front tie rod, after just changing out the tires I find it quite hard to believe they didn't notice any of this. They said my tie rod was bad last winter, next day I got a call "car's fixed" - new front axle $850, no heads up or phone call to inform, get permission. I guess I hate this month, year and life. I hate that I can't drive to the dispo to get some/any medicine after just paying for a new card because my car's fucked up, it's an 07 Impala with <73K miles. I have a garage, I do scheduled maintenance: oil/filters changed, radiator flushed, tires replaced, etc but here I lie. I hate gaslighting doctors, doctor-wannabe nurses, and liars. I hate suffering all year with pancreatitis because a COVID cough matters more than me, after more than two years of available, free vaccines. I hate that my saintly white grandmother, eldest of 17, worked like a slave, right next to them in rich family homes then the woman of the house withheld money promised to her by the husband because she worked so hard for a big party they held. I celebrate my beloved White Grandmother, who died from a surgeon's mistake on my 16th birthday, on this Juneteenth.