Today, I'm feeling a little rough around the edges. Been a long, long week. A lot of driving. Tons of tasks. Seemingly one problem surfacing after another. Very little "me" time in between. At any given time during any given day during this week, I've gone over to the "dark side." As each new headache surfaced or a new responsibility reared its head or another hour of sleep was lost, I let my internal whiner run free at the mouth, and man, he can whine with the best of them when he wants. "Wah, wah, wah." There's nothing I hate more than a whiner. Fortunately, it seems to take a lot less time than it used to for me to realize what an asshole I'm being.
Just now, for example, I let the internal whiner in me carry on by bitching and moaning about having to go to the store, come up with something for supper, and cook it. Lucky for me, I have a bad-ass realist who also lives inside me, a guy who is willing to voice his displeasure in my whenever needed. "Hey, asshole, at least you have money to go to the store and buy food. At least you can hop in your car, buy your family some grub, and drive back to the house that you own to cook it up for them. Stop your damn pissing and moaning."
I love that guy. He tells it like it is. He makes me see the light. So, when the whiner wants to fill my head with, "Oh, I hope my little girl is doing OK at her first day in a new daycare today," the realist is saying, "Well, dude, it is good that her parents have jobs so they can pay for daycare." When the whiner starts yapping, "Jesus, this drive across town to pick up my kid from school is a real pain in the ass," the realist says, "Come on, man, you have a choice in where your kid gets to obtain an education." When the whiner starts sobbing that "life is a real struggle today," the realist says, "Really? Really? What's so damn hard? That you get to sleep in your own bed at the end of the day? That you get to turn on the TV to relax? That you had to clean up dishes from which you stuffed your face? That your daughter made you laugh yet again? That your kids still talk to you willingly and often? That your dog showed you unconditional love? That your fenced in backyard gave you some privacy to look at the stars? That you were woke up and lived to see another day? Shut the hell up already."
I do that guy. I really do.
Just now, for example, I let the internal whiner in me carry on by bitching and moaning about having to go to the store, come up with something for supper, and cook it. Lucky for me, I have a bad-ass realist who also lives inside me, a guy who is willing to voice his displeasure in my whenever needed. "Hey, asshole, at least you have money to go to the store and buy food. At least you can hop in your car, buy your family some grub, and drive back to the house that you own to cook it up for them. Stop your damn pissing and moaning."
I love that guy. He tells it like it is. He makes me see the light. So, when the whiner wants to fill my head with, "Oh, I hope my little girl is doing OK at her first day in a new daycare today," the realist is saying, "Well, dude, it is good that her parents have jobs so they can pay for daycare." When the whiner starts yapping, "Jesus, this drive across town to pick up my kid from school is a real pain in the ass," the realist says, "Come on, man, you have a choice in where your kid gets to obtain an education." When the whiner starts sobbing that "life is a real struggle today," the realist says, "Really? Really? What's so damn hard? That you get to sleep in your own bed at the end of the day? That you get to turn on the TV to relax? That you had to clean up dishes from which you stuffed your face? That your daughter made you laugh yet again? That your kids still talk to you willingly and often? That your dog showed you unconditional love? That your fenced in backyard gave you some privacy to look at the stars? That you were woke up and lived to see another day? Shut the hell up already."
I do that guy. I really do.
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