The Art of Complaining

Just a quick little note on this art that I'm regretfully good at...I think I've been better about it more recently (think back to last years complaining upon complaining about my job). Luckily there's significantly less to complain about in that category. Which doesn't leave too much else that I'm really entitled to complain about (although it WOULD be nice if I was actually getting paid for the second Master's Degree status at school (still in conflict with Human Resources)...But the reason I post this is because on Saturday morning, (brrrrrr), my soccer team had the playoffs. I watched the weather on Thursday and Friday and was hoping for a rainy morning and therefore cancelled games (I don't like to play when it's very cold outside, just like I don't like to jog when it's cold, either). So anyway, I hear the rain Friday night and I'm thinking it's looking good for a cancelled game (or two...it WAS the playoffs so if you win game one, you gotta play game two!) So anyway, I wake up to bright blue skies...grrrr...Get to the field @ 8:45, game starts at 9...I'm on the sideline (fine, for a little while, then after reflecting on the fact that I could still be home in my nice warm bed, I start to get frustrated by the fact that I'm left to turn into an icicle on the sideline when I know that some of the girls playing are going to bail out for game 2 during which I'll be playing (even though I have things to do, not to mention that once those guys leave then I won't even have a sub if I wanted one)...yadda yadda...So, we're losing game one, right up to the last 5 or so minutes, I'm thinking, good...I've gotta get home, showered and up to the parents for lunch...We score and tie the game. Okay..that's a Good thing I remind myself. We go into 10 minutes of overtime, still tied, then into penalty kicks...after the first 5 kicks, still tied, so then into the Next 5 (very unusual for this to happen...) and we win. So rush rush to the cars to get to the other field, I call Trav to tell him I have to play another stupid soccer game which means we'll be late for lunch...and so off I play at an even colder field...we tie (of course) and go into a 10 minute overtime and end that in a tie, too and that is how the playoffs end...
I rush home and am complaining about having won, and about poor me having to be outside (with shorts, mind you) in the cold cold weather and Travis says, "You're not allowed to complain about this." "Why not?" I ask. And he goes on to remind me that I play soccer because I enjoy it. Because I like to play. I was disappointed earlier in the season when I didn't think I was going to get to play. So I figure, I must really be good at complaining if I can complain about something that I volunteered for, paid a good chunk of cash to be part of, and miss when I'm not taking part in it...
So alas, my goal moving forward will be to try to be more "cognizant" of my complaining and making an attempt at ensuring there is merit and validity to that which I choose to complain about.