64 – enter the curmudgeon

Curmudgeon snuck up on me while I wasn’t looking and got all up in my grill yesterday.

Oh, I always knew I’d get there–my patience with stupidity has become nearly infinitesimal over the years, but I honestly thought it was because I had a very stressful job, and just didn’t have the time to waste. And, not to put too fine a point on it, I’m a lot like my mama. Not in her near-infinite store of patience for the little ones that she took care of in the church nursery for 15 years. No, I didn’t get the good part; I take after her other part.  As in, my daughter told me how she explained me to the new boyfriend: “Mom tells you exactly what she’s thinking. No matter what.”

grumpyI found out how wrong I was about being impatient because of my job–I haven’t had a job in five months, and I would have cheerfully slapped someone yesterday just to get things to move a little faster.  The nearest small town is pretty much our only place to get the items and the services we need these days, so I won’t give the specifics.  They don’t matter anyway.

Mantra for yesterday was:  I can’t change them, I can only change me. Om. Oh, sorry… ommmmmmmmmmmm.

My sister, who is quite a bit more in tune with her spirituality than I am, warned me off the subject some years ago, “Never pray for patience, because the good Lord doesn’t give you patience, he just gives you opportunities to practice.” And the last word is pronounced very carefully… PRACK-tissss. Ah.

curmudgeonSo, I’m not asking for more patience. Seriously. And, looking back down the years as I near my birthday, I realize that, if you’re only talking about patience, I was well on the way to curmudgeon-ness by 25.

My mother told me something once upon a time that still occurs to me once I’m settled down from the most recent encounter with the clueless: “Ignorance is forgivable; the cure for it is learning.” Of course, then I hear Ron White’s voice saying, “But you can’t fix stupid.”

For those who remember my internal voices–Ethel is the curmudgeon. Britni can’t even spell “curmudgeon.” Dexter… ah, Dexter HUNTS them.



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