Holy shit, I have it so well in comparison to other people. I mean it. Truthfully, I have enough good shit in my life and so little bad shit that I shouldn't ever have a right to complain. About anything.
I decided to make my round of weekly website checks, one of which is a friend of an Austinite who by the looks of her blog is cute and sweet as can be. So suddenly, after weeks of inactivity, said chick comes back to say that out of nowhere she had to bail her mother out of jail after chick's little sister made abuse accusations. Girl was persistently skipping school, doing all kinds of bad things with substances and boys much older than her, and getting away with every ounce of it. It hit chick like a ton of bricks. And poor chick's mother was absolutely destroyed, since she had had nothing but good intentions for her own daughter all along (the abuse stuff didn't ever really happen). So after bailing her own mom out of jail, chick had to help her rearrange her own life with that little obstacle of divorce in the way.
That, my friends, is a sympathy-evoking story. It happens every day, I know, but not in the context in which chick described it. Chick fights for the good guys, and so does her whole family. I also don't want to describe the story in any more detail for the sake of protecting the innocent, because it's pretty much wrong that I even say this much about someone I don't even know.
The big deal to me is that unexpected bad stuff happens to everyone - it's the only way bad stuff comes around. But think about the random bad things that happen to you in relation to the bad things that happen to people around you. Chances are you'll start to feel kind of fortunate.
I'm beyond fortunate. I'm blessed.