I hate holidays. I hate being forced to take a day off from work. I hate the insinuation that I should spend time with a family whom (with one member’s exception) I abhor. I’m jealous that people in the world actually look forward to visiting their mother on these types of occasions. I hate the emptiness of open hours. I hate that I can’t ride horses anymore, because “days off” have meant “days spent riding” for as long as I can remember so now they’re days of mourning for what I can’t have.
So, yeah. I hate holidays.
