Monday, August 26, 2013

A Good Day to Be a Grumpaluffagus

To start us off, I'd like to borrow a little text from A. A. Milne:

"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."
"Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
"Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush." 

I'm GLAD it looks stormy.  I love it when the weather is like an accessory to my mood.  Dark grey clouds.  Overcast day.  Just rain already.  That would be even more perfect.  Then I could walk in the downpour, and get drenched, and really have something to gripe about.

When I went to bed last night, I told myself things will look better in the morning.  Or not, I guess.  I slept well enough.  I had a bunch of bizarre dreams, and was only too glad to drag myself out of bed and away from that emotional upheaval.  I sat in the hot tub in silence, not even bothering to turn on the jets.  I didn't want to endure the noise.  Maybe a shower would wash away the troubling thoughts that have been dogging me lately.  Or not, but not even I would want to be with myself if I started to smell like my mood.  In a futile attempt, I spritzed on my Clinique "Happy" cologne for good measure.  Bleah.  It didn't do anything to lift the dark cloud hanging over my head.

Everything is irritating today.  The lawn mowers came as soon as I decided I needed a nap. The house has been too hot.  Now it's too cold.  When I went to look in my stash for chocolate, the cure for all things negative, I unearthed three Sugar Babies and one single, solitary Milk Dud. These are dark times, indeed.

The dove that I like to think was a MOURNING dove, that just seems appropriate for today, had been trapped in our garage while we were gone last week. Feeling certain he was on death's door from dehydration and starvation, I put water and flaxseed out for him.  And no, I don't have any idea if doves eat flaxseed.  I only know that SOME birds eat SOME seeds, and I figured it was better than nothing.  I didn't dare feed him the chia seeds, for fear he'd react like I did, and actually feel worse with vertigo.  He went from listless and eyes closed, to being alert and moving a bit in just a short amount of time.  It felt good to care about something for a moment.  I pushed his little water dish closer to him, and just like that, he flew away.  Ungrateful cur.

So when this mood lifts, and it will, I will forget about how it felt in this moment to feel such dissatisfaction for my relative life of ease.  My husband just walked in.  "What are you doing, Dee?"

"Writing about feeling grumpy.  I'm hoping writing about it will make it go away."  He chuckled as he headed back down the hall.  That isn't funny, I thought.  Nothing is in my current mental state; everything is gloomy.  I'm having an Eeyore moment...feeling like a Grumpaluffagus.  And there's nothing anyone can do to make it better.

I'm off to find some real chocolate.  Just in case it could help.  Stranger things have happened.

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