Quit yer bellyachin'

Every now and then, something happens that makes me feel like an asshole just for existing. Today was one of those times.

As I wandered around on my lunch break, looking for something that would satisfy a wicked-out-of-control hormonal imbalance, I saw a homeless, blind, elderly man standing out in front of one of the lunch spots, paper cup in hand. A woman who (I presume) worked there came out to say "hello." She asked him how he was doing, and this is what he said:

"Oh, I can't complain. Could be better. Could be worse. Mostly, I'm just glad to be alive."

I plopped some change in his cup, and he thanked me kindly. Then I thought about all the things I've gotten bent out of shape about in the past 24 hours while I waited on line for my Chinese food. Conclusion? Asshole.