This is not fair. I had perfected my grumpiness to a previously unheard of level of, uh, perfection. I had the ideal foundation for a good bout of grump: I was out of work, back in my boring apartment in my boring town where people speak a boring language - and of course, the weather gave me plenty of grumping material. Hell, we had a snowstorm a few weeks ago. In April. Snowstorms in April are not okay.
And then this happens!
Sunshine, mes amis. And not just sunshine (we've had a couple of days with that before, and I almost froze off my nose trying to make the best of it).
No, no, no, not just sunshine, but nice, warm spring weather as well. I even sat out in the garden today for an hour or so, working, and it was downright idyllic. The cherry trees were blossoming, bumble bees were humming around me, and there were little yellow flowers everywhere (I've no idea what they're called).
If I'm not careful, I'll lose my touch, and then Mischa and/or Jeff will transform into happy go lucky characters bursting into song. Maybe they'll sing "Tomorrow" from Annie. Imagine Mischa doing that? The horror. I simply have a literary commitment to find my grump again. And soon.
At least I'll soon be allergic. Or get sunburned. Maybe it'll rain tonight. One can always hope:).
I read and I write - everything from corporate to kink. My naughty fictional friends are always there to make my life interesting. And pester me, of course. Pesky creatures.