1. What complaints do you have about this weekend?
One complaint I have, and it's all on me, is that I didn't get to relax. That's because I let every minute of the weekend get filled, mostly with things I scheduled in advance, and didn't leave any protected vegging-out time (you know, the reason weekends exist). I'm fibbing a little: I had actually intended to give myself a free Sunday afternoon today, but Number Two Son called at noon and asked me to babysit, and I couldn't bring myself to say "no."
The big bummer of the weekend was coming in second in Sunday night pub trivia, even though our team only missed one question (unfortunately, I bet too many points on that question, despite being unsure of the answer). We should have won that game, but since I am the only one on the team who really and truly cares about it, I guess I don't have to feel too guilty that it was 100% on me. Embarrassed and annoyed, yes. But not guilty, at least.
2. What are your grievances with yourself?
In general? I lack self-discipline, have insufficient ambition, and can't boast much in the way of moral courage. Also, I can't seem to say "no."
Oh, and I know this is superficial, but I don't care much for how I look. I guess that's a function of my lack of self-discipline (I'm overweight and -- sorry, body-positive chums -- don't like it, but I can't seem to stick to diet & exercise or anything that might fix it).
3. What are your objections to rainbows, flowers, and puppies?
I have no objection to any of those things, and in fact I am glad they're all in the world. Life doesn't have to be dark to interest me, and neither does art (though I can take my art a little darker than I prefer my life).
That said, one can find a reason to object to anything. Rainbows usually mean there's been rain, which is always experienced by me (a non-farmer) as a nuisance. Flowers require work to tend & grow in a garden or a pot; and, if cut, they require both space to display and a little too much effort to keep fresh long enough to be worth displaying. Some people can do it, but I have neither the gift nor the interest. Oh, and puppies are messy.
4. What are your criticisms about your domicile?
The builders didn't set up the drainage in the lawn properly, so that one side of the house gets swampy whenever it rains. Consequently, the basement on that end bears the yucky traces of frequent wetness (over the years, whenever we would get a horrible storm, water would pour into one window well while the sump pump valiantly worked against it ... until the power went out. We finally put that pump on battery back-up, so we haven't had a recent flood, but there is much remediation to be done).
Said builders were sloppy in other ways: there's not a square corner in the original part of the house, there are nail pops everywhere, and the original paint job (still not all painted over, despite the age of the place) barely covered the dry wall. Meanwhile, some things that were perfectly fine when the house was built are now falling apart due to age (e.g., the roof on the front portico will collapse if I don't replace the rotting pillar supporting it).
I need to pour some cash into the place.
5. What's your beef with excessively negative people?
Wouldn't the beef be that they are ... excessively negative? I am a mostly positive person -- even my mopey days are mopey because I expect the world to be better than it's being on the day in question) -- so negativity is not a compatible energy to mine.
That said, negative people are often correct (because, I mean, have you looked at the world? Most of it's messed up, so anyone criticizing it is bound to hit a fair target). My intellectually honest side appreciates that.
Speaking as a dedicated left-wing person, I will admit to getting extra-frustrated at some of the organized negativity in the public arena from my side of the aisle. We are the "cancelers" of cancel-culture. We are the ones who tanked that lovely little In the Heights movie for not being politically perfect. I feel like we liberals often shoot ourselves in the collective foot by being quicker to condemn than to be constructive.