Whiny McWhiner

I'm in the middle of The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell, and I'm thoroughly enjoying her witty, offbeat essays. Since I'm a charter member of the "Do You Want Cheese with that Wine" club, one passage resonated with me:

In my self-help universe, when things go wrong I whisper mantras to myself, mantras like "Andersonville" and "Texas School Book Depository." "Andersonville" is a code word for "You could be one of the prisoners of war dying of disease and malnutrition in the worse Confederate prison, so just calm down about the movie you wanted to go to being sold out." "Texas School Book Depository" means that having the delivery guy forget the guacamole isn't nearly as bad as being assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald as the blood from your head stains your wife's pink suit.

I am forever trying to pull myself back from the ledge by making similar comparisons. Most of the time, it works. And when it doesn't, I foist my complaints on the blogverse as a purging method. Lucky you!