It's That Time Of The Year Again. I Must Go Sleep In An Empty Bathtub.

It's that time of the year again. I must go sleep in an empty bathtub.

There's people to whom complaining about anything is like a smoke alarm, it informs you that there is something wrong in the current situation that must be fixed RIGHT FUCKING NOW or at least ASAP, because if you can't tolerate living with it without complaining, you must fix it, and if you can neither do anything to fix it nor to endure living with it, the only other option is to die. Wherever living is possible at all, it is possible to live well, and if there is no option to live with dignity, one still has the option to die with dignity.

And then there's people to whom complaining is just the sound they make. Like birds have their calls and different machines have a different kind of engine noises. The sound of this person is complaint. They just do that. These two types of people run in families. And sometimes they intermarry.

Sometimes the type of a person who was praised as a child for stoically enduring a situation that hurt badly enough to cause physical injury, instead of being a whiny crybaby about it, will have to employ these skills they were raised with to silently endure listening to one's mother-in-law complain about how she went into the woods (where wild birds live) and there was bird poop in there.

Speaking of gym, I haven't posted anything fun in a while. Here's me not being crushed to death under 250 kg / 550 lb leg press

Any time I encounter new and unfamiliar aave I just crumple in confusion, like what do those words mean? I've never seen them in this order. And then when I crack it, I immediately start using it because that shit is funny as hell.