This is my second post.

So my first post was my last editorial of the summer. And this post contains my very first one. It ran in The Vista the second week of June under the headline of "Redefining the Bad Day." Where it mentions summer school, just think "fall semester," and it has the same effect. 

After much mental denial, yes, the summer semester of 2011 is finally here in all its glory.

Ah, summer school.

Maybe you’re jazzed about it…or not. From snippets of students’ conversations, tweets or Facebook statuses, the dreaded biology class or some other such helpless course get bad reps.  In fact, a surprising portion of casual banter and social media fodder is…complaining.

But consider with me, if you will, for a moment.

It could be so much worse.

Since the May 24 tornadoes, I can’t help but think how absurdly lucky and utterly blessed so many of us are and we don’t even take stock of it all.

I dare complain about a little 8-week class, when there are fellow Oklahomans who now have nothing?

When that alarm clock goes off summoning us to our day’s work, do we curse the clock, or choose to be grateful that we still have a bed in house that hasn’t been swept away by Mother Nature’s latest EF-5 special?

It could be worse.

I think about the parents in Piedmont who in one day lost two kids, their home and their way of life until now.

I think about the high school graduate in Joplin, who at the dawn of his next chapter life, never got the chance to turn the page.

That my friends, is truly a bad day.

I propose that we cannot afford the exorbitant price of complaining.

At the risk of sounding flaky or cliché, remember as you drag yourself out of bed for that 8:00 class or toss your books into your 450-degree car at the end of the day, that it could be worse. Before you take a breath to complain about the science class, take another breath and realize that it could always be worse. In fact, take another breath and be glad you could.