complaint-free zone

I’ve been on my own today and have had no interaction with anyone else, so there’s literally been no chance to complain. It feels like cheating, but I’m okay with that.

On to Day 8!

Another day in which opportunities abounded (The Rains, co-workers complaining at length to me, a meeting in which further complaints were aired) and yet I felt less tempted to join in as the day progressed. I’m beginning to think being negative requires more energy than staying positive, so in a way it’s easier to push the negative stuff aside, and gets even easier as you keep doing it.

Or I’m just lazy, which I’ve mentioned before.

Also, our meeting was sans donut. Normally this lack would inspire revolt or at least prolonged lamentations. Today I really didn’t care at all.

Which will also have a positive effect on my waistline.

Today, I actually had to make a couple of calls on whether I had committed a technical complaint infraction. In one case I made the observation of “Dumb” in response to a TV show where some but not all faces were blurred in a segment about a robot programmed to navigate public spaces. I quickly amended that comment by saying it wasn’t dumb that some people wanted to hide their faces, just that I would not do so.

It was negative, but was it a complaint? I don’t think so.

Earlier in the day, through my own error/miscommunication, I ended up waiting to meet someone for the third time and grew frustrated after 15 minutes, thinking the person had just started a meeting even though we had scheduled to meet. It turned out I had the offices mixed up, but before learning this I told another person that I couldn’t stay any longer as I had more work to do (which was accurate). Was I complaining or just stating facts? It was more the latter but my tone was on a very fine line between just imparting information and getting kind of whiny about it.

Still, I think I stayed on the side of not complaining.

The rest of the day went by without issue and even complications later on did not ruffle my imaginary feathers.

So onward to Day 6 for the second time.

Not much to add here, just that I got through without issue. Nothing seemed especially complaint-worthy. Or maybe I was just too lazy to actually complain. Either way, I win!

I managed another day sans complaints. Most days it’s actually pretty easy to do. The likeliest place to slip up is talking about the weather but I’ve just switched my brain over to the logical position of “there is nothing I can do about it unless I win the lottery and buy a private jet and always fly to where it’s sunny so stop grousing about how it’s raining again and also I live in Vancouver, of course it’s raining. Do people in the Sahara complain about sand?”

I don’t actually know if people in the Sahara complain about sand. Some of them probably do.

Anyway, on to Day 4 (take 2).

I had multiple complaint vectors open up to me today (though not the weather–it was nice and rather mild), but I resisted. I paused when I wanted to say something and let each moment pass. I muttered silently to myself from time to time, but made it through.

Maybe I’ll read up on meditation next or just make up something that seems meditation-like. Meditation is bound to make me even less likely to complain. Unless the meditation goes horribly wrong. I have no idea if that’s even possible, but you never know.

For now, I bask in the modest success of Day 2 (again).

Today I’m back to Day 1 of my 21-day challenge to go complaint-free after all the complaining and whatnot yesterday.

I ran, found my inner Zen (I’m not sure what an outer Zen is, actually) and despite encountering multiple dogs off-leash I said nothing, continued on my way, had a good run, enjoyed the sun and ended the day feeling relaxed and rested.

Considering I woke up with a headache, this is even more impressive. The headache was remedied by both Advil and a bubble bath. It’s hard to feel negative when you are reclining in warm water and surrounded by pleasant-smelling bubbles.

I’m stocking up on bubble bath.

On to Day 2 (a Monday–dun dun dun!)

And a digression: Is my Bad Design category on this blog just another way to complain? Yes, it is! Will I be removing it? No, I won’t! But why? Am I making crazy and arbitrary exceptions? No. Instead, when I highlight something that I feel is a bad design, I’ll point out why and suggest ways in which it could be improved. My point in these posts was never to just rant about things, but to examine why certain design decisions end up being poor or sub-optimal and pointing out better ways. Also, I do point out good design, too, especially when it notably stands in contrasts to similar but poorer designs.

And so I start again.

On the sixth day of my 21 day complaint-free quest I complained. I started the day in a negative frame of mind and it just took over until the complaining started.

Tomorrow I reset to Day 1.

Briefly, what happened was this:

• I had to stay home for a dryer ventilation inspection. It’s one of those things that only takes a minute but you never know when they’re going to arrive. I did laundry and ran a load of dishes, but was mildly annoyed at having to stay put.
• Part of this annoyance was due to my watch not connecting to the phone. It apparently stopped doing so shortly after noon yesterday for reasons unknown. I spent a lot of time fruitlessly troubleshooting this.
• After the ventilation guy left (testing vents involves a rubber hose and jet-loud suction) I decided to go out and maybe get a new phone as a way to brute-force a solution (I had concluded the watch was fine and the phone, now 3+ years old, was acting hinky)
• I walked to Lougheed on my usual route and a couple with a pair of dogs entered the Brunette River trail just ahead of me. The dogs were off-leash and running around in a hyperactive “what was in their kibble?” kind of way. This was a huge red flag to me. I growled to myself and the guy corralled his dogs and hustled them off the trail to the river. I’m not sure if this was his plan or if he didn’t like the look on my face, but it did little to appease me.
• Further up the trail a woman with another dog off-leash. The dog approaches me, getting up close and personal. The owner calls the dog back. I turn to her and say, “They’ll fine you for having your dog off-leash.” Technically it’s a statement, so I’m still good, but my mood is not. My doom is approaching.
• I cross a foot bridge near Lougheed and on the other side is another woman with a yellow lab. Normally a cute dog, but this one, off-leash, ran up and proceeded to poke me with its snout. I growled again, loudly and in a somewhat sustained manner. I said in a curt tone, “Leash your dog.” The woman and dog crossed the bridge, the dog remaining off-leash. I called back again, “Leash your dog!” It occurred to me later that she may not have even had a leash. At the far end of the bridge I could see the woman beckoning to her dog. The dog was off exploring nearby bushes. The dog was doing what it wanted to do. It was a happy dog. I ended my interaction by shouting, “I hope your dog bites someone!”

Now, telling someone to leash their dog is not of itself a complaint. It’s a request. But as the author of A Complaint Free World notes, it’s often how you say something and the way I, er, barked out my words, it was clear I was complaining, not just offering some kindly advice. And so my blue rubber band made its first journey to my left wrist.

I’ll put it back on the right wrist tomorrow and try to do better. I wonder how the whole sequence of events would have ended if I’d had a 10 or 15-day streak going instead.

I’m disappointed, but at the same time a little relieved. I’ve gotten my warning and with a lot of potential complaint points coming up, I will have to be even more vigilant in what I say and how I feel.

Also, I got the new phone and my watch is happy again, so yay.

I did a lot more talking today than earlier this week, particularly with co-workers and I have a nebulous feeling I may have complained, but it’s very vague–I can’t point to anything specific, even as I recall a conversation in which I expressed concerns about certain things. These weren’t complaints because I readily admitted to the benefits of said things, while also pointing out that certain aspects were left unaddressed. I thought aloud about possible solutions, trying to remain positive.

And that was as close to complaining as I got, so I think I got through Day 5 intact. I did hear others complaint, but in response I either grunted noncommittally (I should practice this in the mirror to get it just right) or I’d find some positive aspect to highlight instead.

Example:

Grumpy person: Oh look, it’s raining again. What a surprise!
Me: Umbrella vendors must be making record profits.
Grumpy person: …

I’m going to chalk this up as Day 5 with no complaints. If the weather is better next week, I’ll be cautiously optimistic that I’ll keep my streak going.

Back at work it was more challenging but ultimately not that difficult to go without complaining and I’ve discovered that I can still make wisecracks that are legitimately not complaints in disguise. Yay.

I keep telling people that I’m doing this because I think there’s a reasonable chance that when I slip up I may not even notice it, so independent verification will be handy.

While I won’t say it’s been easy so far, I really do think that recognizing “complaint mode” has helped a lot. A couple of times I would think about saying something but silently ask myself first (as you tend to look a bit loco when you ask yourself questions out loud), “Is this actually a complaint?” and realize it was and then I’d just let it go. I wouldn’t think of another way to rephrase the statement, I’d just move on.

For example, the queue at work is very big right now, probably the largest it’s ever been. I could easily complain about it, but instead I don’t. I think about it, but when it comes to actually speaking, I’ll make suggestions on how to address it, propose solutions. You know, the opposite of complaining. It seems very Pollyanna-ish, but to heck with it. Who didn’t like Pollyanna? (Note: I’ve never seen the movie, so I have no idea if a major plot point turned on everyone secretly hating her or something.)

There’s 17 more days to go. It seems improbable that I will get there without interruption, but much like my quest to make 2018 donut-free, sometimes you just gotta believe (2018 has so far been donut-free).

Today was kind of a gimme for not complaining because I was at home sick and had pretty much zero interaction with any sort of sentient human. Or non-sentient, for that matter.

There was a golden opportunity to break my streak when I asked Jeff how his day was when he got home, but after an initial complaint he made a conscious effort to switch over to something positive instead. This was both thoughtful and practical, because up to that point I was largely just standing there like a statue, mute and unable to respond. I didn’t want to affirm his complaint, but neither did I want to just stand there like a lump staring at him (one of my favorite examples from the book A Complaint Free World is the family that went in on the challenge and found themselves sitting around the dinner table as if they all had Cones of Silence on them because they were unable to speak to each other. This changed, eventually, of course, but the early days were a vivid illustration of how dinner time was also venting time).

So far I haven’t missed complaining much. I already feel my brain trying to switch over more to problem-solving mode. Fortunately I have a lot of problems to solve to keep it occupied.

I didn’t directly speak to a lot of people today, so that helped with the temptation to complain.

Also I’m pretty sure I’m coming down with something so I may be bedridden soon, which will help even more, unless I get hold of my iPad while in bed and find my way to Facebook to share news of my condition in a less-than-positive manner.

But that probably won’t happen.

Because I rarely post to Facebook.