We are not impressed

Some people seem to enjoy being miserable. We've all had bad days, and even bad months, and that's kind of how life goes sometimes; you just have to get through it. But there are people who seem to think that they are going to win some kind of prize by being unhappy - the most unhappy, and therefore the greatest victims, I suppose - and by making sure everyone in the vicinity knows about it. What, maybe if you're beleaguered enough you'll get a cosmic do-over? I'm afraid not.

This is what I want to say to those people:
Hey! Guess what*: this is it! Every moment that passes - like right now - is one that you aren't getting back. Sighing heavily every three minutes and trying to impress us with how burdened with work (and therefore more important...?) you are doesn't really matter to us and certainly isn't making your experience of your own life any better. What if you let go of this enormous commitment you have apparently made to being miserable and instead of using that to get attention and comfort yourself, you made one or two small choices that actually made you a happier, more relaxed, more intact person? Terrifying, I know. But wallowing in self-important misery is not actually a great way to spend one's limited moments on earth and you are the one who is missing out (and, incidentally, the one who can do something about it).

In the mean time, I am not going to be spending any more of my precious earth moments in your miserable presence.

(OK, now I feel like a teacher who has just yelled at the whole class when only one student has done something wrong. So, if this doesn't apply to you just disregard, k?)


*chicken butt