Sometimes I think the universe looks around for someone who appears to be in a reasonably happy state and then begins to plot to put an end to such frivolity.
Like today, for example.
Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t a bad day. Nothing terrible happened. But I quickly became very aware that I was a magnet for cranky people putting substance to the delightful motto:
“We’re not happy ’til you’re not happy!”
And really, that’s what it came down to every time. Folks who couldn’t be talked into a better attitude instead found new and creative ways to rant, whine, and complain, and they wanted an audience for their sour moods—preferably one being paid to be nice to them on the principle that the customer is always right, even if it’s obvious that someone peed in the customer’s Cheerios that morning.
I smiled apologetically, murmured semi-supportive phrases, and kept trying to be positive and encouraging to people who were bent on being negative and impossible to please. In truth, I felt rather badly for them.
Life is a drag when you insist on being a miserable cow.