It’s hot. It’s July. Why should I expect anything else? But yet I complain.
Not a single one of my numbers came up last week. Or the week before. Or the week before. Why should I expect anything else? But yet I complain.
I may not be consistent with getting this blog written every week, but I am consistent with my complaining.
I need to stop all this complaining. It doesn’t look on me. And it is boring for everyone else.
Right now my whole life is in waiting mode. Waiting for the pandemic to end. (And just how are we going to know when it has ended?) Waiting for rain. (Who am I kidding – it’s the middle of summer) Waiting for a cold front. (A relative term – temperatures in the low 90s would seem downright cool.) Waiting for my zinnias to bloom. (They hardly have the energy to grow, much less bloom.) Waiting for my numbers to fall from the basket. (Yeah, right!)
Yep, it’s official – even more than being in waiting mode, I am in complaining mode.
According to all the self-help books – all the way back to the writings of St. Paul – the best remedy for complaining mode is filling the mind with good thoughts.
So let me try. I don’t have the virus. I am not quarantined. I can leave my house whenever I want.
No rain does not mean having no water. Every time I turn on any faucet water gushes out. Even as I write I am spraying water all over my garden.
We may not be having a cold front, but I at this very moment I am sitting in the shade of my front porch, listening to the cicadas, and not melting into a puddle of me.
All my zinnias may not be blooming, but the green ones are. Green zinnias next to lime hydrangeas, next to a green grape vine – it is cooling to the eyes.
My super special lottery numbers winning today? Nope – I’m not going there, not even going to think about that. I have thought my way out of my complaining mode and I intend to stay out.
It’s hot. It’s July. It’s as it should be. Who should complain about that?