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Anyone who spends time around me knows that I’m a complainer. To me, that’s a lazy state of mind. It’s like you are too lazy to think positively, shift your perception and come up with a solution for the problem so you just sit there and wallow in your self-pity. I have to say, I don’t think I’m too much of a whiner, nor am I a complete Negative Nancy, but I do my fair share of griping.
Some of my current sources of complaint: I am always tired lately because our girls make us play musical beds almost every night! My chronic exhaustion has made it hard to be motivated to get my workouts in; especially when trying to train for my half marathon. My house is always a wreck. I can’t keep it clean for longer than half a day, if that. There will never be enough money to obliterate and perfectly solve all of our financial woes the way I want them to be.
I’ll stop there because this list could go on and on.
Yep, poor me. Poor, poor me.
Poor me that my sleep is disrupted frequently by two of my most favorite, beloved people in my life because they trust me to provide the love and comfort that only I can provide them in the middle of the night. Poor me that the source of my tossing and turning is caused by the elbow pokes and covers-hogging of two of the most precious beings ever known to me.
Poor me that I have to sometimes force my healthy, strong, capable body to lace up my comfortable shoes and head outside into the glorious outdoors to pursue the satisfying challenge of keeping myself fit and better suited to live my life to the fullest.
Poor me that I have a comfortable home that is often cluttered because I just don’t seem to have the time to keep up with it all. Poor me that I keep losing that time to other stuff like playing and reading and doing homework with my daughters; heading out to do both planned and impromptu activities with my family; I even lose precious hours taking the occasional nap to make up for a horrible night’s sleep.
Poor me that I only have one car, which has compelled my husband to ride his bike to work resulting in his losing over 50 pounds and becoming the fittest he’s ever been. Poor us that we don’t have more income to end up wasting on things we don’t need. Poor us that we’ve been forced to be smarter about budgeting, saving and appreciating our money.
Yes, I know. Pathetic. THIS is the life I often complain about. No, I don’t complain about a homeless, disease-laden, persecution-filled existence rife with crime, disasters, health problems and/or constant family tragedies. I get to complain about an often challenging, frustrating, and – at times - disappointing existence that still manages to be a blessed, rewarding and very happy life.
Lucky me. Lucky, lucky me!
(But I’m sure I’ll still complain a little.)
Great post - SO TRUE! Although, I think that sometimes it makes me mentally feel better to whine a little. Or a lot.
ReplyDeleteI know, LaVonne, I think venting is healthy, too, just to get it off your chest. I said I'd still be complaining a little, but, like you said, it'll most likely be a lot!
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