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I’m probably the furthest thing from a grumpy fucker that you’re ever likely to meet, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, they’re lying.
That’s not to say there isn’t plenty to be grumpy about. I got three horsefly bites today, and my arm has swollen to the size of a balloon, yet you don’t hear me complaining about that now, do you? Have any of you ever tried typing a Hive post with a balloon for an arm? Before I moved to the bloody countryside, I didn't even know Ireland had biting insects.
Anyway, nobody likes a moaner, and I rather like being liked. There’s simply no advantage to having people dislike you. It certainly doesn’t get you more presents at Christmas.
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Besides, I’m the world’s leading authority on compartmentalising, so very few people have ever seen me at my worst. As I’ve explained so many times that even @theworldaroundme's cat probably knows the story by heart, I had a difficult home life as a child. As a result, I learned to separate thoughts and feelings into neat little mental compartments as a way of managing stress and maintaining focus.
I've spent a lifetime perfecting the art of parking unpleasant thoughts until a more appropriate moment, usually when I'm on my own. As I see it, a problem shared is a problem doubled. So yes, I'm something of a closet grump, as it were. Around other people, I do my best to exude positivity and show my happy face.
Smile and the world smiles with you, and all that jazz.
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Posted in response to Galenkp's Weekend experiences asking ' ' Are you a grumpy fucker? ".
The images are mine
