Last weekend, I found myself in the middle of a pity party because I had to work seven days in a row. While I had a few breaks throughout the day, I still managed to work about 60-70 hours. I was objecting to this while I was taking out the trash and breaking down the packaging for our impending wedding shower. Now as I was tearing boxes apart (and jumping up and down on the bubble wrap) it hit me that my pity party was, in fact, bullshit.
I have a job. While the circumstances surrounding it (office environment, intensity of work, the nature of the work) may not always be fantastic, I have a really damn fine job. I’m lucky enough to have found someone I want to spend the rest of my life with AND people are sending us gifts to help us start a life together.
In short, I have no reason to complain about how difficult my life is.
I know it is human nature, and I know that my feelings of discord suggest other issues that need to be addressed. I am working on all of those problems (and my work stuff) as best I can. Whining about not getting “a weekend for myself” just doesn’t seem to cut it anymore.
April 22nd, 2010 at 9:04 pm
Eh…I say, you’re allowed to complain as long as you’re aware that you’re just blowing off steam, and have some perspective, which you clearly do. Bitch away!
April 23rd, 2010 at 3:06 pm
Um, Yep.
Good thing you got your head around this, before I had to slap you.
April 25th, 2010 at 1:11 pm
Cry more, nub.