I've been very "woe is me" for a week or so. My glorious results with the regime from the naturopath tanked, hard, in their third week, and I am back to being bitchy and ragey. I have no functional bathroom, my sewer backed up, my child seems intent on killing himself. I hate my job and want to stab people there. My relationship is...not as strong as I thought it was. I'm pudgy and schlumpy and wah wah wah wah you get the idea.
I was hitting the highway to head out to my parents Ranch on Sunday and there was a cop blocking off the road and funneling traffic onto the overpass.
I thought: Well that is just fucking great, they're pulling people over and I'm going to get a ticket for something because MY LIFE SUCKS OMG.
But as I drove across the overpass, I spied the real reason traffic was being relocated: the distant figures of people in white Hazmat suits, cleaning up debris from some horrific accident. Probably picking up stray eyeballs from the side of the road.
And I thought: Oh, hai, Perspective, where ya been?
Obviously, life could be worse. Or non-existant. I could be, as my mother was always fond of saying, Dead in a Ditch Somewhere.
And then I cried a little tear for the people that were, and maybe another one born of my own frustrations, and kept driving.
(I am going to post this because I feel like venting, but I'm closing comments because I feel that asking for comments is like asking for validation of my whining, and I'm trying to stay friends with Perspective right now. If you still need to think good thoughts at someone, you could send out a healing vibe for some friends of mine who just suffered the miscarriage of a very long-awaited baby. Or you could head over to Becky's and give her hugs. She is dealing with the big C with far more grace and class than I am dealing with my stinky basement.)