When I feel sorry for myself, I remind myself that there are zillions of people who are worse off than I am.  That doesn’t usually help because, of course, there are also at least a half a zillion people who are better off than I am.  So I allow myself to be in a bad mood and hope that I don’t cause those around me to flee.

In the last ten days, four things have gone wrong. 

• Peter hurt his back gardening. He was in a lot of pain and, as a result, grumpy. 
• A new sofa that we special-ordered was delivered and turned out to be the wrong size. 
• The TV feature with my new sister and me got cancelled.  (See the 70-something entry from May 27^th  http://bit.ly/JFLrgi ).
• My internist recommended that I start taking a generic Fosamax to   keeping my aging bones strong.  That’s a complicated problem for people like me with celiac disease.

Peter’s back is getting better.  The furniture store agreed to order a new sofa for us.  I’ve gotten over my disappointment about the cancelled TV appearance.  So I am in a better place on three of the four things that went wrong.

I’m still working on the aging bones/Fosamax/celiac decision.  And I am still complaining.