Wednesday, January 21, 2009

On Whining (Like a Bitch)

I’m going back under the knife today in about two hours. Actually I shouldn’t say “under the knife” per say, as I am having noninvasive surgery for yet another fucking kidney stone. One would think I would alter my diet to fix this problem but that’s a story for another day.

I have complained about this problem ad nauseam talking about how painful it is in my back, how hard it is to piss etc over the past few months. So much so, in fact that it feels like a rehearsed story designed to garner sympathy or perhaps a free drink. Almost as if I am making it up out of thin air. People are sick of hearing about it and my boss thinks I’m using it as an excuse to do God knows what for three hours at the county hospital. I mean, do I really need to bring a note when you drop me off and pick me up from the fucking place?

I’m getting distracted.

In any case, the point I’m making here is that I complain way too much and honestly…I really have no reason to. There are fucking loads of people who have it worse than me right now…take for example this guy. So add complaining into the long and ever growing list of personal flaws I have grown to know about. Complaining has gotten to be a way of life for me, as opposed to actually doing something about the shit I’m complaining about. Beyond that, most of the things I whine incessantly about are self-inflicted.


“I wish I could take painkillers to help this kidney stone.”

“Why can’t he take painkillers,” you ask?

Because I used to shoot up.

Therefore, for me, taking painkillers is like throwing an ice cold beer to your alcoholic brother in law. Yet somehow my half-witted brain sees fit to complain about this when IT’S MY OWN FUCKING FAULT.

This is just a rambling thought but the point is that it got me thinking. Complaining has always been my way. Complain because then it feels like you are actually doing something about your problem. Well complaining isn’t going to get me a new job, if anything it is going to get my ass fired. Complaining isn’t going to get me out of debt; it’s more likely to get me drinking. But most importantly, complaining isn’t going to get my ass out of Ohio.

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