Many of my most bitter complaints open with the remark, “I hate to complain but…”

Well, the temperature is 17 degrees in Decatur, Georgia, and I am sitting at my part-time job in the theology library, where the heating vent is broken and the nearby door keeps opening.

I hate to complain, but I’m cold!

And whenever I am stuck in some uncomfortable situation like this one, I wish I could be like the saints. I wish I could simply smile enigmatically and offer it up. Well, in fact, when I wake up each morning, I do say the offertory prayer, the one that goes, “I offer you my prayers, my works, my joys and my sufferings of this day.”

But I wonder: Does complaining about the sufferings negate the prayer? Am I required to be cheery?

Don’t get me wrong, please. I don’t whine when people ask “How are you today?” I don’t tell them that I am wearing tights, corduroy jeans, heavy socks, a long-sleeved shirt, a fleece vest, a fleece jacket and a scarf — and that’s my indoor outfit.

I just say “Fine.”

Besides, this is such a small suffering, and I know it. There are people in freezing conditions without heat in many parts of the world today. Some are also hungry. They don’t have access to the candy machine in the next building like I do, nor did they start the day with a nice oatmeal breakfast like I did.

So I know I’m spoiled.

But besides my tendency to complain, there is something else that kicks in when I’m (choose one): stuck in traffic, too cold, or weary of construction noise in the neighborhood.

I start envisioning a perfect place that I can move to. In the winter, I picture a placid town in northern Florida, where the ocean is minutes away, and the weather never dips below, say, 40 degrees.

I grew up in Miami, and when things go wrong in Georgia, I see myself going home to that state. Winters would be milder, the town I choose surely would be quieter — and I would be happier.

Wouldn’t I?

Then I remember that this is a fallen world, and there really is no perfect place. Small towns in Florida still have crime. Summers in Florida are really sizzling.

In short, there is suffering everywhere, and perhaps trying to avoid it only increases the agony.

Still, my childhood friend from Miami just moved to Royal Palm Beach, Florida. She just e-mailed me that she is wearing light cotton clothing.

That did it: I’m envious. I’m cold. I’m whining again.

Maybe it’s time to refresh that offertory prayer: “Dear God, please accept me as I am at my desk here in the library. Fallen, broken, yearning, and quite cold. Please take my tiny sliver of suffering and use it for some good in the world. Please help me to realize that the only perfect place is Heaven. Amen.”