Read Whine

I just whine sometimes, don't I?  And I'm not unhappy.  I'm very happy.  I choose to be happy.  Don't go thinking that happy people don't whine.  I think it's imperative to whine once in a while if one is going to be happy.

I think it's just important to think through to whom we whine.  I have a set of whine recipients and I am indeed a blessed person. 

I have a co-worker to whom I am allowed to whine free of charge at any time of day.  I'm fairly sure I'd be gone without her.  I whine to her about work-related things.  Unfortunately, we are often interrupted by work. 

A friend who has been the best since age 3 is about 700 miles away, but the internet and telephone being what they are, she remains a great therapist.  I can whine to her about anything.  Things that she doesn't understand are not off limits.  That's important for a lifelong friend therapist.  She'll also tell me - ever so lovingly - if I'm off base.  Of course, that hardly ever happens.

I have a therapist therapist who points out to me in a less gentle, though not harsh way when I'm whining over the whine limit.  He encourages me to woman up and do something more productive than whining.  This is important to have but not always immediately available.

Then I have Blanche.  She will happily listen to me whine for hours on end.  She never gets bored, tells me that I'm feeling sorry for myself or has to go do something more important.  When I come home from work she's waiting for me, eager to hear me whine about my day, the news, the weather,  my joints. . . .whatever I decide is whine worthy. She gardens with me, in case I think of something to whine about in the garden. 

I find that with Blanche I don't censor myself.  She isn't afraid of strong emotions (as long as they aren't accompanied by the vicious vacuum cleaner.)  She has a way of making me feel important.  She loves me as only a rescued dog can do. 

Blanche, this blog is dedicated to you and the late Gus Campbell, our canine great nephew and cousin.