Greasing the Squeakiest Wheel is a Waste of Time
There is harm, however, in paying heed to the complaining wheels. Eventually, the machine gets bogged down trying to address even the most mindlessly stupid complaints that the legitimate ones are ignored.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?