Surliness

I'm surly today. What a great word - it sounds like it feels. I love words like that, and love them in other languages, too. When my host brother from Ecuador, Carlos once visited my home for a week, my dad was in rare form: picture Archie Bunker, only crankier. Carlos said the word for my dad in Spanish would be cascarabias. The exact translation wasn't necessary, though I imagine that it is close to cantankerous or just plain cranky. Maybe cascarabias suits me today, too.

I wasn't going to post but in the usual morning avoidance of getting started on work (all the more overwhelming because I'm getting ready to be out on vacation next week), I took a peek at schmutzie.com. That woman cracks me up. I lightened up enough to think I'll get past the surliness, eventually.

This morning I exercised restraint when I wanted to verbally flay my ten year old (haven't yet thought of a good nickname to use for him in posting). I was already running late - before getting up I dreamt that I was going to a doctor to ask why I can't get up in the mornings - when I dropped the boys off at day camp. A few minutes later, the kid called my cell to say he'd left his backpack in the van. This is the same kid who'd deliberately punched his little brother in the back earlier in the morning, and pretty much started the day with a visible chip on his shoulder. I turned around and drove back with the bag. By the look on his face, I would say he knew he had pushed me to the limit for one morning.

The urge to viciousness scares me. Usually, it's associated with certain regular hormonal changes which is probably the case today. I could have been completely nuts - I felt like flinging the final papers to be signed for our divorce at the ex, just to lash out at someone. Nice, huh? I can only say I'm glad that I very rarely give in to that degree of meanness.

It is tempting, but I can't agree with Calvin, from Calvin & Hobbes, saying "Nothing helps a bad mood like spreading it around." I am trying to redirect myself instead. The Mozart concerto on the radio helped, a little. Email greetings from friends help some, too, especially the ones that remind me of some of the serious stuff others are going through. It's good to get the focus off myself. A good laugh always helps a lot. When all else fails, there's bad language:

Under certain circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer. --Mark Twain

And then, there's always writing.