It's the little things

Just when you think things are crappy something comes along to slap you back in your box and say "Hey, chicky, be grateful for what you got, OK?"
Oh, alright, that's my weird-arse inner voice saying that and threatening to slap me silly six ways from Sunday when I'm in danger of wallowing in Mother Guilt.
And let me just say that inner voice sounds suspiciously like my mother in full flight.
Not pretty.