I think for some people, talking about the good stuff feels like bragging, so you only really hear about the bad stuff. "He never calls me when he's going to be late and it's so inconsiderate" seems more socially acceptable to say than "He's always supportive and always makes me feel like I'm important to him." or "My boyfriend is a great kisser."

And for some people, they can't actually SEE the good stuff, in their lovers or themselves.

I may mention one of Hubby's shortcomings to people, but I don't constantly bitch about him. I've seen that, though, women continually complaining about their significant other. I often wonder what they saw in the man.

Oh, and it's snowing in Utah. Cold, wet storm. It should hit 90 in less than a week.

Event went fine and I was able to find parking!

Surgery was fine. Then Grace tried to cough, was in pain (due to the surgery) panicked, de-satted down to 72%, turned blue, panicked more, and generally freaked out an entire recovery room, a few pediatric residents, some nurses, her ENT and her anaesthesiologist.

She's being held over night not on the regular floor but in intensive care with a one-on-one nurse.

Aw, poor Grace.

I'm just happy that I find that I adore my interns boyfriend almost as much as I adore her (and I adore and respect her bunches and bunches).

Of course, then I think of my parents, and how many outsiders think my mother is a cruel shrew for being so mean to my sweet sweet father, when in fact he really is an absented-minded neglectful family man who puts church before family and in the end is a bit of an asshole. But that's almost forty years of marriage. (although I'd laugh myself silly seeing him divorced and trying to maintain a house beyond just mowing the lawn and washing his personal laundry). (Bringing home a paycheck isn't the end of your familial responsibilities, fuckwad).

Aw, Grace! That would be scary.

Meep, poor Grace! That sounds terrifying for everyone involved. I hope tonight holds no exciting developments, just stable recovery.

I got fuck-all done today, but that is fine. Actually, that is not even true, I got a little done, just not as much as I would have liked. So it goes. Using my vacation to rest as well as try to catch up on all the stuff I am failing at is okay.

Definitely scary. Luckily the ENT was walking by in the middle of the panic as well as the Child Life person that Grace adores. So when she saw them, she started to calm down.

Aww, Grace. Such a big transition for her.

I've seen that, though, women continually complaining about their significant other.

I see this so much with men and women. Good grief, if the mate is such a loser why do you stay? Then again, more often these same people complain about their jobs, the restaurant, and every thing else. Some people just wanna bitch.

In Laura land, there is a spectacular sunset out the window and I am too lazy to walk outside and enjoy it.

Some people just wanna bitch.

And some people dwell in that place of external locus of control, which prompts the complaining, maybe. I don't complain about the things I can fix. The more I feel I can fix the less I complain? Maybe?