It's hard to believe while in the middle of everyday routines that things could be so good. While I stumble through the hum-drum daily get up and follow all the familiar steps that are retraced day after day it's not easy to remember how very good things have turned out. There isn't really a complaint that could be spoken that would carry any weight due to the mere lack of substance it could contain. It's empty. An empty complaint.
I've actually worried about when to take my car in for service. This day or that. When and what time. What would work out the best. Now, you know things have gotten too good when you are not worried about what might be wrong with the car or how much it will take to fix or what that will mean as far as keeping or getting a new. The only worry is when to take it in?
Empty complaints.
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