There were many things that Nancy missed in her new life. She'd taken so much for granted in her old one, and spent most of it bitching about traffic, people who didn't believe in her god, that damn Mexican office cleaning crew that came in nights and kept moving her collection of stuffed animals into what she could swear was a nearly pornographic set of poses.
She bitched about her dentist and the way his nitrous oxide smelled, she bitched about how cold the stirrups were in her gynecologist's office, about having to wait at least ten minutes to get into the doctor's office, about how her massuse seemed to ignore her sore spots, how her hairdresser had been not spending enough time talking over her fashion needs.
She had bitched about nearly everything, from the way the barrista at the coffee shop made her late too hot, with too much foam, the way the baggers at the grocery store never remembered that she preferred plastic bags, how horrible it was to have to stand in line at the big box store to get a refund for those horrible gift choices her husband had made, how ugly the homeless people had made downtown look, there was just so much to bitch about that she never ran out of things, ever. Her most common complaint was with her housecleaner, and she complained twice as much those weeks her checks bounced.
After the virus hit, everything changed. She made it through, unlike all the other people in her office, and most everybody else who had made her life a living hell with lousy service and rude manners.
Now she wished she had all those things back. Pulling your own teeth out when they became infected was a chore she had learned, and her constant scrounging for unburnt cans of food in the charred ruins of the grocery store was turning into a skill
Just avoiding the rape gangs and marauder packs and sleeping all day on the top of a 5th floor walkup on packing blankets was a full time job, and without her birth control pills, her non-stop periods returned and were making not having tampons and running hot water a special messy hell.
It never occurred to her that she never had the time or energy to complain anymore. Not that there was anybody left who cared about her to hear it.