That really is the only word for it. Grumpy.
And the sad thing is that I can’t seem to shake the bad mood off. There are lots of things in my life I could blame this on – but then I would be committing a personal foul since I do believe that we are responsible for our own happiness.
Twenty years ago I would have raged at the world – picked a fight with a friend for lover – and felt better after the catharsis. Never knowing what had caused the mood or thought much about it afterwards.
Age does bring wisdom.
I’ve now discovered that raging at the world because the universe is not organized the way I want it does nothing helpful. Looking at it, through it, filtering it, and finally understanding it. That is real power. But right now I just want to rage against it.
This wasn’t how this holiday season was supposed to go.
I wasn’t supposed to be alone. I was supposed to have someone to buffer me from the changes in my family life. It wasn’t supposed to be this much of a struggle. Somewhere there was a bright spot – and it made everything else seem a little more possible.
Life doesn’t go as planned and I am tired of being the odd man out. I didn’t realize how tired until Sunday morning.
It was the party Saturday night that did me in, I think.
The fun of explaining why I was alone, again. Watching people with lives, family and plans make merry in a season that I have disliked more year after year. It has been years….three or four… since I put up a Christmas tree. Even longer since I’ve enjoyed it all – it was mostly out of habit. Habit is strong but my dislike of this season became stronger.
I haven’t finished my holiday shopping. I’ve been dreading it, putting it off the way I used to put off homework projects as a kid. Hoping for some magical reprieve or that the homework would do itself.
But the shopping won’t do itself, and Christmas is at the end of this week and I need to face the fact that I’m alone again. Funny, a few months ago I was completely content with my solitude. But it wasn’t the holidays then.
If someone had told me I was going to grow up and dislike this time of year – I would have laughed at them. There was no way. I loved the music, the decorations, and the celebration of life just as winter was beginning. I even love the darkness – the long nights spent curled up with friends, loved ones, or the cat and a good book.
Now I can’t wait for the light – for the year to turn and the days to extend.
I’m not usually bitter. In fact I don’t think that anyone would describe me as such. This is just a moment. And like all moments it will pass, blurring and merging into the next.
It may be that this verbal bleeding will help heal.
~ Tess Anderson