I hate doing dishes so much.
I hate all those super tiny slots.
When I first start a row of new plates, I place them in a specific order only to realize I can fit only about a third of the dishes; naturally, I started over.
This process repeats a few times before I just pile the dishes in and hope my mom doesn’t notice; which she does. Then she rearranges the entire thing perfectly in just seconds.
(I’m too scared to watch Rebecca Black’s new song. It’s called “Saturday.” THE HORROR!)