There are days when I’m simply grumpy.
And I really don’t want to give up the grumpiness.
It’s nice to be a grumpy old woman.
I’m allowed to hate things as grumpy old woman.
I can hate the noisy kids. I can hate the party next door. I can hate the guy with the motorcycle and the other guy who guns his car in the garage. I can hate the girls who laugh too loud late at night.
I can even hate the wind, the flies on my balcony and the screaming seagulls.
Because I’m a grumpy old woman today.
Tomorrow, I can go back to loving people. But today, I’m grumpy.
I love it.