Moody waaaf
One of the biggest changes about how I am (versus how I was at the beginning) is my moods. I’m just not as happy as was earlier on in the journey. In those days, every day was a joy, I’d grab each day with the gusto of a puppy, talking to everyone and his uncle, hoping to find interview leads in every corner (and the only way we do get them is by talking).
Oh what a difference 7 months makes. I have lost a fair chunk of that bounce. And the worst for both me and Mike is my moods. They change on a dime. I’ve become a timebomb, a gorgon waiting to scratch at any moment. I can’t even navigate them – I’m usually fairly self- aware, and if I think I’m slipping into a fiery laguna of irrationality, I’ll warn him to stay away from him and that none of it is his fault. Not now. For example, this morning, we were doing our usual thing of fannying about for HOURS before leaving. We knew we needed to do some internetting: site needed updating, we’d been out of contact for 5 days which led to a pile of emails. So we were sitting in the hotel lobby merrily internetting. After about 4 hours of this, I suddenly, without warning, snap. “We have to go. We have to go now. I can’t handle this.”
Mike to his gleaming credit is inhumanely patient when his wife is replaced by a firebreathing sucubus of doom. “Ok” he replies calmly and swiftly starts to pack away. He’ll make gentle, unpatronising enquiries as to what may have precipitated his wife’s descent into Evil, but he also knows that communication is futile, and every word uttered is like a joust with the devil.
For my part, the rage suddenly erupts. I think a bit contributor is the lack of any kind of exercise in my life. Mike drives the bike which requires deep concentration but also a lot of upper body strength – this being a Ural with sidecar, you don’t lean into your turns like on a regular motorbike, you pull the entire weight of the bike with your arms. I, however, just sit and fester in the sidecar, eating and sleeping and hurling the occasional insult.
Like a kind of Miss Piggy meets Oscar the Grouch.
It’s really hot. Yesterday it got up to 39 degrees centigrade. That’s whopping. And sweaty.
So no chance of me doing any exercise till it cools down a bit, but I’m hoping that Little Miss Lardy Arse Toxic Chops might retreat into the shadows when I eventually do.
Anyway, there’s my Thought For The Day, folks: I’m just a little grumpy. My lesson to relationships out there – men, just back off. It’s not your fault, but it rapidly could be.
