Irrational

Some days I find myself feeling particularly cross.  I snap at my Fellas (normally internally, but sometimes it escapes), and sometimes stomp or crash about, and huff or sigh.  My countenance lacks sunshine, and my words are short and sharp.

My mum's catch phrase in these times is,

"if you can't control (your life, yourself, the world... take your pick), control the mess",

and I have learned that throwing myself into busy housework activity can sometimes improve my mood because I've improved my environment.

I'm the kind of person who looks inwardly and tries to discover the source of ill humour, in the hope that identifying it will allow me to change something and, thus, improve my disposition.

Sometimes the cause is the apparent mass of tasks that need to be done in the short time available.  If I'm honest with you, this is often self-induced, but I do like to add interesting things to the repetitiveness of life.

Or the fact that others in the house appear to contribute only to the messing stuff up, rather than the cleaning up side of things (which, by the way, is completely untrue - it only feels that way some days).

Sometimes the cause of my disharmony is a hangover of whatever has been happening at work.  Others may have been in a foul mood or had disasters in their life, and I take it on.

But sometimes I'm irrationally cranky.  There is no obvious reason for being a sourpuss, and certainly no reason to take it out on others.

As my Poppy used to say, "I've got my cranky pants on"!

And being cranky when it's irrational, makes me crankier because I know I'm being completely unfair on those around me.

So, to my Fellas, I apologise again. You two are wonderful and I incredibly lucky to have both of you!  I love you...

and so do my cranky pants!