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Thursday, February 16, 2006


I can get behind complainers. I understand them, and the impulse. I am one, sometimes. At a certain point, of course, it's too much, and you don't want to hear it, you just want to tell them to get off their asses and doing something about it, but for a while, it's ok.

There's a lot about work that I need to complain about, in order to get through it. I had a big bitch session with a co-worker today, and I left feeling refreshed and happier. We understand each other. We're not really friends, though we work comfortably together and like each other. I know not to look her way during staff meetings when certain issues come up, because I know she'll be looking at me with an eyebrow raised and I'll start laughing.

I think it works because we both have similar frustrations with aspects of our jobs, but we both know how much the other cares, and that complaining doesn't really indicate a lack of dedication. At my last job, I worked with a bunch of complainers. Most Fridays we'd end up bitching about work over beers. It seemed worse. It made me think, "what the hell are we doing working here if we hate it so much?" We sure didn't get paid enough (one of the key points complained about) to work through the apathy and annoyances. This seems different to me, I guess because at the heart of it all, I really do love my job.

Though sometimes we come up with ways to change the things that frustrate us, often we don't. But it does help to vent about them and then get on with things.



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