Don’t praise me, friends, fans, family.
Four years ago, I set out to travel through the span of 365 days without voicing complaint. I have yet to accomplish that objective. In sixty days, my sixth twelve-month period will commence. . I do not necessarily deserve your praise.
Laugh with me, for I have discovered much humor in the contortions of my face as I speak through gritted teeth.
Shrug with me, because, as a greater poet than I once said, ‘What can I do but laugh and go?‘
Stretch out your arms with me, for like that ring of angels, I find myself teetering on the head of a pin, nearly falling so many times into the abyss of complaint. Only balance can save me.
Throw your hands into the air even as I wring my own. Incident after incident frustrates us in our navigation through life. Nothing remains but my capacity to accept the foibles of humanity.
Be bold with me, striving forward with a gleeful heart, a tender smile, and a warm embrace. Evil scowls melt with the unending and exuberant application of good cheer. This I know because I am a woman of whom judicial notice has been taken that I am relentless.
It’s the first day of the fifty-ninth month in my never-ending Year Without Complaining. Life continues.