That I Would Be Grateful

My week so far:

Sunday/Monday: The Runt stuck up tree.

Tuesday evening: Take cats to vet for shots. Which, thanks to an emergency case which came in right before I got there, and an extremely thorough vet, took an hour and a half. And I actually had to leave the room when they gave Little Girl her shots, because she pitches such a fit and I couldn't bear to watch. (Also, frankly, I wanted to be out of the line of fire when she went berserker.)

Wednesday: I was supposed to leave work early and meet the toilet-fixer-person at my apartment at five. Guess where I was at five? Stuck at work. Rescheduled for six, and then had to stay as far away from the bathroom as possible, because of the truly alarming amount of plumber's crack on view. (I really, really wanted to snap a pic and post it here, but my camera has a rather loud shutter, and I couldn't figure out how to get a shot without alerting the subject.)

Wednesday evening: Call the shelter to schedule spaying/neutering. Am told that I cannot do it over the phone; I must come to the shelter in person to schedule. Sigh......... Realize I am out of readable reading material; resort to old Playboys that are sent to our office for an employee who no longer works there. (Srsly, there are some good articles in Playboy. And the "advice" column cracks me up. I think Bill Clinton writes half the questions: "If she goes down on me, it's not really sex, right?")

Last night: Made appearance at shelter to schedule surgery. Was told the earliest opening was for November 20. Expressed fears that the cats may become, well, active before then, and was told not to worry; they could do an abortion if necessary when they spayed Little Girl. Sheesh - I thought these guys were trying to save teh kitties. Stop at library for something to read. Go home and check to see if bathroom carpet is still soaking wet ......... that's a yes.

And I could go on and on and on, as I so often do on this blog. And then I thought about some of the bloggers I read who are going through really hard times right now. Dealing with things like recalcitrant children, and divorce, and illness, and death. And I thought, what right do I have to complain?

But then I thought, there is always going to be someone out there worse off than I am. Does that mean I can't complain at all? Because, frankly, this blog is a huge outlet for my venting. And just because I write it, doesn't mean anyone has to read it.


So what do you think? Is it okay to moan and whine and complain, knowing there are people out there much worse off? Or should I be all Suzy Sunshine and only write about the good stuff? Because frankly, I don't want to forget about the bad stuff. It's all part of life, right? Hmmm.... Maybe it's okay to complain, as long as I remember to count my blessings as well.