I Don’t ALWAYS Complain

I generally consider myself to be reasonable and low maintenance. We live simply, and even if I had the money, I wouldn’t gold-plate anything in my house. I’d get some new bedding, and probably put in another bathroom, but only a half bath, and nothing fancy. I don’t even know what “fancy” would look like, which you probably already know, since I just referred to gold-plating like that’s still happening. There are times, however when I catch myself complaining about something ridiculous, or looking down my nose at things that a truly reasonable person wouldn’t take issue with. Here are some examples of things that make me act like a diva.

If I’m filling out an online form, and the country choices are in alphabetical order, I get super annoyed that I have to scroll all the way down to the U’s to find United States. We should always be at the top, amirite?  Afghanistan must think they’re sooo cool, sitting there in the number one position.
My laundry room is in the basement. My stairs have like eight whole steps, and I’m usually carrying a mega full laundry basket. Some days those eight steps are a bridge too far. Until I need to wash my favorite jeans. Then I get real motivated, real quick.
A reasonable wait time at any drive-thru is about thirty seven seconds. Any more than that, and I feel completely inconvenienced. Let’s be clear: I don’t even have to get out of my car to get a coffee, a burger, or conduct my banking, but if I have to sit in my comfortable car listening to the radio for too long, I’m irritated. It would take me thirty seven seconds to get one kid halfway unstrapped, so I’m saving about sixty bazillion seconds by not getting the kids out of the car. Drive-thrus are right up there with disposable diapers when it comes to parenting convenience, and I have no right to even think negative thoughts about drive-thrus.
Getting up to get the TV remote is a terrible chore. Just kidding! I have kids to do that for me now. They’ll fetch me a beer and a snack, too. But TV does irritate me. Watching live television with all of the commercials is sometimes too much for me to bear. I am likely to delay watching a much anticipated program just so I can fast forward through the commercials. Is anyone still watching commercials? How can they possibly still be a profitable marketing tool? I feel like I could stand on my front steps and yell great things about a product, and it would reach more people than a television commercial.
We aren’t big lottery people, but if Powerball hits over $100 million, we buy a ticket. If we won Powerball, I’d never complain again. Until those earnings were taxed, of course. Why $100 million, you ask? Because, to us, anything less than that isn’t worth it. What on earth would I do with a mere $20 million? That’s just enough money to have family members showing up for handouts masked as “investment opportunities”, and to buy three pairs of those Lululemon yoga pants. Or skip the Lululemon and spend the $20 million on approximately six trips to Target. (It should be obvious that I’m not the money handler in our family.)
When we talk about what we would do with our jackpot, besides my husband’s plans to buy the Seattle Mariners, our dreams aren’t very elaborate. We like to think we would continue living as we do now. I realize now that my expectations would go from zero to out of control in about two weeks, and it wouldn’t be long before I installed an elevator to the basement, making laundry easier. Easier for my housekeeping staff that does that laundry, fills out my online forms, and runs my errands. I’d still let the kids fetch the remote, because it’s important to not change too much.

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