Now, before you go all nuclear, let me explain myself. We all complain, it's in our gene code, like Levi or Wrangler. We put them on, have our little pity party, and then take them off because they are dirty. Into the washer and we come out smelling like daisies. Like that, we all need to vent. Job sucks right now, my sister is driving me insane, my back hurts... these complaints are human nature at its rawest, someone to listen and say oh you poor... or join us in slamming down whatever got us there in the first place.
I'm talking about the people who never are happy, always have something negative to say, and who, even if all their problems just disappeared would complain that all said problems just vanished. These people I like to call New Rope Junkies, (they would complain if hung with a new rope). It doesn't matter how good life can be, they just are never happy. For anyone, not even themselves.
You ever feel too excited about something, call them and they will have you reaching for the happy pills. Earn some awesome promotion, they will remind you it comes with lots of responsibility. Get a nice chunk of money, they will tell you that you will owe a ton in taxes. Anything good happen in your life, you will get the speech... 'must be nice.' And sadly, it doesn't stop there.
NRJ (new rope junkies) are the ones who wonder why no one wants anything to do with them. They panic, whine, and remind us of small children who need a nap and a bottle. You who respond with... well, you just don't get it... I'm probably hitting a lot of nails. Actually, most of us do. We all have pain, bills, trials, things that are just not in our control, but we also know complaining does nothing. If you hate your life, change it. Well, I can't. Then change your perspective. Look at all the others less fortunate then you. You ain't dead, stop acting like you are.
Take away this... complaining does nothing for anyone. Eventually people stop feeling sorry for you and start shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, and ignoring you. When Woe is me becomes your comma, your friends who really would stick by you until the end begin to search for happy pills to make hanging out with you bearable. So wash your genes, look on the things that make you happy (find some), and remember the finer points in life. Life hands everyone lemons, so pucker up, and go out swingin'.