Saturday, May 30, 2015
No one likes a complainer
No one likes a complainer. But what if you are, well, sort of a complainer, and you want to still be liked?
I, for instance, want to be liked. I want to be liked by at least three or four people that I know, possibly several more, and, and this is big, so if you've been skimming this post so far you're going to want to start suddenly paying strict attention:
I AM A COMPLAINER!
I know. You are shocked. You had no idea whatsoever!
That is because I have mastered the art of the likeable complainer.
Yes, it is one of the rarest and most exotic arts- the likeable complainer, comparable to the hunting vegan, the witty dog, or the giant bonsai tree.
But I don't tell you this merely to dazzle you. I have a higher purpose as well.
I understand that you might have cast a few damning words upon the world. I understand that you may have, once or twice, complained, and that you don't, necessarily, want to prohibitively block off the possibility of people liking you.
Sure it would be great to be all perfectly self contained, and collected, and not caring how other people feel about you because you are you and you have to be true to yourself, chips falling where they may and all that, and you are at peace and whole and complete in your essential center. But even Gautama Buddha is going to feel it a little if, when he merely mentions that it's a bit windy out, no one likes him anymore.
That's why I am going to teach you how to be a likeable complainer.
Unfortunately the teaching of it is very difficult and long and exhausting and painful. I can barely keep my eyes open except for the discomfort that would prevent my dozing. I have been writing this blog post for what appears to be hours. I don't understand how this can even be because this post is but a few rambling sentences long so far, and yet I started it on post it notes in the Ikea return line over four hours ago now. Four hours ago! Yes, some other activities came into it, but it's late at night, I have been typing here forever and the faster I type the more quickly my point recedes into the distance. Can you see it out there? If you see my point just sort of shoo it over in this direction. Tomorrow I have to get up early for another day of house remodeling, plus I have to do these core exercises every other day now and they hurt. And what is it with the Buddha and the wind? What's wrong with the wind?
WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE WIND!
Anyway, I think I'd better teach you tomorrow.
It's gonna be great.