There must be something about complaining I haven’t understood yet. When telling everybody that I was going to the beach, the people in Barcelona in unisono complained how crowded the beaches are and that they are not really nice and njanjanjanja… Granted: there were a lot of people – what else would you expect on a Saturday in July? but it was still very nice just to sit in the sand, read a book and go in the sea every now and then.
In Grenoble, I always loved the fact that some really good ski resorts are but a 40 minutes drive from the city. And I also remember people complaining that these places then were too full on weekends, not as good as other ski stations and njanjanjanja.
Yes, this post is a complaint but what is it that people are never happy with what they have and that makes the grass always looking greener on the other side? There are hardly ever, I actually thing never, all good things together in life. There is always something – work, private life, weather, money, you name it – that could be better. If you can do something about it – do it. If you can’t – life with it. But complaining is not going to change anything but deteriorating your mood. Or is there something I missed?