Spring has sprung. We’re having our performance next week. My youngest is graduating next month. Things are going well at work. I have no complaints.

People say, “Can’t complain” as though it were a small thing, a variation on, “Okay.” Really, how often could we truly say we can’t complain? Most of us can complain about something all the time. Often about many things.

Some people enjoy complaining. Some people behave as though there were something virtuous about it. I often can’t help it, frankly. I try to limit whining to my blog, but there are times when I subject other people to it.

It’s too hot, too cold, too busy, too boring, too much too little…

People think venting or getting things off your chest is beneficial in some way. We think we can get things out of our system through whining. In fact, complaining makes people feel worse, not better. Complaining is one of those things that increases when you do more of it, like eating the Evil 6, not one of those things that you can actually get out of your system by doing it, like… ummm… vomiting.

On this occasion, though, I actually have no complaints.