2018: No more Mr GrumpyPants

Here is a photo I took of a walk I often take:

IMG_4445a

I like to walk around the lake. What you see is supposed to be a grassy field. But the lake itself decided to take a walk and has spread itself out to engulf the surrounding area. Normally, from this point, the lake wouldn’t even be in view. There would just be grass, a few trees. But now, my, that’s a lotta water. One of those times when I wish I had an inflatable dinghy with me, you know how it is. I really should have a Batman Utility Belt to carry such useful things…

But my thwarted walk did not deter me. (Should I call a “thwarted walk” a “thwalk”? I will need to contact those dictionary people.) I just walked somewhere else. So, I shan’t complain. Although I have been noticing how easy it is for me to do exactly that. To grumble. My default setting is: ‘Moan about things’. I would fit the Grumpy Old Man Personality Type. When I was younger, I was a Grumpy Young Man. I have spoken a lot of grumblywords in my time.

According to this source, we speak over 800 million words in our lifetime! That’s over a thousand biblesworth of words. And I think, for me, a lot of those words will have been to have a good moan, whinge, grumble, mutter or chunter.

Words. Scientifically speaking, sticks and stones may break my bones but words can beat me over the head, slice me up and throw me out in the cold. Now. Here’s the technical bit. Few people would actively go out of their way to beat themselves up. It is rare that you would find someone punching themselves. Although, I do understand you can see YouTube videos of people of doing reckless activities as if they wanted to get hurt. But, for the most part, we have a bit of self-preservation. So why do we like to beat ourselves up with negative words? Sometimes for days. Sometimes for years! It’s like we don’t really want to be happy.

So here is my cunning plan. I am going to stop. We can form a little club. Every time I start to whinge, you can admonish me gently. Every time you start to whinge, I can slap your face. Seems fair to me. Now. We need a club hut. Somewhere nice. The Bahamas maybe. No, wait, I’m not keen on flies. One of you will have to find a place in the world where there aren’t many flies. No, don’t suggest Greenland. I thought that would be flyless but no, I’ve seen a programme where there were millions of mosquitoes there. But I digress. We’ll need someone to take minutes. You may have to bring your own chair. And I’ll bake some muffins. And then eat them all. No, sorry, I mean: I’ll bake some muffins and bring them to share.

Ok, it’s a date. And remember our club motto, courtesy of Google Translate:

Ne conmurmuror!”

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