The Love-Hate Relationships That Depress Me

In my younger days, I had my share of silly, tumultuous relationships … boyfriends, high school friends, the height of my hair, Jon Bon Jovi. I still have my share of love-hate relationships — pathetically, they are even more embarrassing.

– My Suburban
LOVE: It is my second home. HATE: It smells like sour milk and sweaty shin guards.
– My Clarisonic
LOVE: At my age, I need it. HATE: At my age, I need it.
– My iPhone
LOVE: What would I do without it? HATE: My kids can contact me at any time.
– My Chardonnay
LOVE: What’s not to love? HATE: I can’t drink it in my Suburban.
– My Caffeine
LOVE: It protects my children from my un-caffeinated self. HATE: They don’t make it in a mouthwash.
– My Husband
LOVE: I made a vow. HATE: He’s such a guy sometimes.
– Jon Bon Jovi
LOVE: Only love, Jon. Only love — I’ve matured!

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Author: Karen Latimer

Karen is a Family Physician, Wellness Coach, and founder of Tips From Town. She is passionate about sharing her medical expertise, her coaching techniques and her parenting experience to encourage happier and healthier lives.

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