So maybe I'm something of a complainer. It seems to me, that with recent health scares, dying pets, funding issues and ego trips, I have something to complain about. I've always believed that laughing through a complaint makes it less annoying. Apparently not.
Someone told me to be positive today. I look back on the last few weeks, and I made it through surgery, we got a much-needed donation, I started actually getting paid for freelancing (which has made it a LOT easier to travel in and out of the country....customs and passport control don't understand how "volunteer" or "pr director" are professions....no one questions "writer"), we had two amazingly uplifting art events for the kids. Nothing much to complain about.
But I still want to moan and complain. Because through getting sick, I became this whiny, needy girl who was always crying for no reason and who lashed out at people. I wasn't sitting and being brave and nice and smiling through the pain....I had a meltdown.
We're all so hard on each other; I'm probably the worst of all. No matter how old you're getting, or whether you're working in social service or as a writer, or a doctor or an astronaut, you never get over this need to compete, to be better. The volunteers I work with are so obsessed with how everyone else is doing, who's friends with who, even who the kids like more. I don't know why it matters so much any more than I know why I've spent the last few weeks competing with the stronger, less weepy Lauren.
She's not perfect, either.
Someone told me to be positive today. I look back on the last few weeks, and I made it through surgery, we got a much-needed donation, I started actually getting paid for freelancing (which has made it a LOT easier to travel in and out of the country....customs and passport control don't understand how "volunteer" or "pr director" are professions....no one questions "writer"), we had two amazingly uplifting art events for the kids. Nothing much to complain about.
But I still want to moan and complain. Because through getting sick, I became this whiny, needy girl who was always crying for no reason and who lashed out at people. I wasn't sitting and being brave and nice and smiling through the pain....I had a meltdown.
We're all so hard on each other; I'm probably the worst of all. No matter how old you're getting, or whether you're working in social service or as a writer, or a doctor or an astronaut, you never get over this need to compete, to be better. The volunteers I work with are so obsessed with how everyone else is doing, who's friends with who, even who the kids like more. I don't know why it matters so much any more than I know why I've spent the last few weeks competing with the stronger, less weepy Lauren.
She's not perfect, either.
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