Shut up juice

Was feeling sorry for myself the other day, as I sometimes do, and I took it upon myself to loathe in wanton self-pity.  Things weren't quite going my way.

So when thoughts of "Oh, woe is me" and "Life is so hard and unfair" creep into my mind, it only takes about five seconds for my so-called hard-knock life to remind me that there's a lot to be thankful for and there are plenty of others out there that have legitimate cause for complaint.

As bad as you think you've got it, as crappy as your day has been, and for all of your perceived problems, I promise you that somewhere, someone else out there is getting dealt a much crueler hand; like that elderly gentlemen who lacked all muscle tissue, who had crutches for extensions of arms and whose upper body was all contorted like a reject pretzel; or that child, the same age as your own kind, with leg braces and a cane; and what about that mom with the aluminum stick leg for a prosthetic?  You know, the one that someone honked at because she was too slow crossing the crosswalk (yeah, that really happened--there are some real quality people in this world)?

So just when I thought my day had turned to complete shit, and right on queue, life's karma pimp-slaps me with the aforementioned reminders that I've got it pretty good.  All of these reminders, mind you, in a fairly affluent community in one of the most advanced and richest societies ever known; say nothing of those poor bastards living in countries like Syria, Sudan, or North Korea.

So when thoughts of "Oh, woe is me" and "Life is so hard and unfair" creep into your mind, take another drink.  Down that boutique coffee store's coffee and feel thankful for what you've got, knowing full well, that somebody's got it worse and, for now, that somebody is not you.