Me: “But it’s 100 degrees outsideeeee.”
Mr. T: “Yeah, and you’ll go from air conditioned house to air conditioned car to air conditioned restaurant, back to air conditioned car, back to air conditioned house. What’s your point?”
Feeling unmoved, I changed tack. “But it’s a work night!”
T: “And? Now you don’t have to cook.”
Me: “But for once I knew what we were having!”
T, giving me an eyeroll I could hear over the phone, tells me he’s taking my “grumperature” to assess my grumpiness level. While I pretend to be offended, I can’t help but admit the term is apt.
The thing we were sparring about? A spur of the moment dinner invitation from dear friends.
I know. I know. I *am* a grump. But I own the fact that I don’t love last minute changes, especially when I really did have a dinner plan for once.
While we did end up going out (and it was lovely!), I’m realizing now that what I thought was a pretty high grumpitude quotient is nothing compared to this week.
Like many, I’ve found it nearly impossible to concentrate with the barrage of news about migrant children in cages and “tender age” camps. I’ve been utterly disheartened by ugly online conversations between “friends,” and what feels like a pervasive and chilling lack of empathy about human suffering.
And then I had a student get in my face about a grade and later tell me over email to “see things more rationally” (while asking for an exception to course policies, of course).
And now it’s going to be 105 (million) degrees on my three dozenth birthday tomorrow.
Needless to say, my grumperature is at an ALL TIME HIGH right now.
So I’m brightsiding today. I’m watching old puppy videos.
I’m seeking out stories of compassion and kindness. I’m concentrating on the curious, conscientious and cool students in my class. And I’m counting minutes until T and I go to a fancy birthday dinner (at The Kitchen!!!)
I can already feel my grumperature improving.