It’s A Rant – And I’m Too Ratty To Apologise …

Good Morning

I’m not sure if I am fully awake yet. I’m hoping not because I haven’t warmed to the positive and potential of this day. I’m still grumpy. And irritated. And just plain ratty. Had another weird dream where one of my ‘virtual’ friends (I won’t embarrass him by naming him) was protecting me from the evils of life and then some hammer-swinging thug tried to kill me by swinging his hammer and letting it fly at my person. And not just any hammer. A lump hammer. Not the best start to the day!

I think it all had something to do with the state of mind that I went to bed in. We went out for the day yesterday, just a little jaunt to Lincoln, and so I didn’t fire-up the laptop until the evening. I intended to but I got involved in watching Andy Murray at Queens and then the following ‘celebrity’ match. I guess by this time I had peaked and was already on a downwards spiral. I can only see good and sense in my fellow-man for a certain amount of time each day!

Some of the boasting and utter crap posted around the place got my goat – whatever that means? What is wrong with these people? Such opinions. And yes, that is exactly what they are – opinions. Do these people, who write all this crap, actually believe it? It really, really gets to me. This is why I often think that I am not suited to this self publishing world. I’m not sure I can take it all as seriously as some do. I never feel the need to instil my beliefs and opinions on others – especially without being asked. Opinions are personal. They are NOT facts. Never have been. Never will be. Book reviews are opinions. They are NOT facts.  Never have been. Never will be. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. I have no problem with that at all. The problem I have is when these opinions are delivered in such a manner as to give the impression that they ARE facts and should be adhere to. Followed to the letter. Divert at your peril. Stop it, please.

My naughty little fingers hung poised over the keypad as I tried not to comment. It was hard. Very hard. You see, I believe that these strongly opinionated types actually scare off the less brave and the less opinionated and I don’t think that is fair. It can’t be, can it? Writing doesn’t have to be so sodding serious and complicated, does it? If you want to write, just write. You don’t need to listen to some idiot spouting on. These people will put you off because you will end up believing that you will NEVER know as much as they do, never be good enough and in all likelihood give up. Anyway, I kept my fingers under control and moved away from the keypad. Consequently I went to bed angry and someone tried to hammer me to death. At least I had my virtual knight in shining armour! I shall send him an email today and thank him ha ha. He also happens to be one of the humblest writers I know.

I will simmer until the cauldron boils. You see, I don’t actually like upsetting people and hold back with my comments and opinions. It doesn’t mean I don’t have them.

Just had a quick argument with Richard – see, it’s not a good day. He’s flying high and quite jolly – and distracting me from this. He’s just been to book old Betsy-crap-machine in for her second MOT and to get the guy in the garage to do the bit of welding on her old bones. Come Thursday the ancient lass should be back on the road. He will be delirious, of course, because as we all know, little things please little minds. So right now I’m having to contend with Richard singing, making toast and being jolly. NOT the usual Richard. I’ve asked him to stop being quite so happy because it is off-putting and  – weird! He looks confused. No change there then. I’ve told him he’s a dick and that his mother named him well. He said he used to think that was a compliment – twenty years ago. He IS a dick …

I’m being beastly, I know. Can’t help it today. I still see that hammer lunging towards me. And I’m still a bit down from yesterday. As we all know it was Father’s Day and for me the sixth one without my dad. I took him some flowers and tidied his grave. I miss him so much and I don’t know why that still surprises me?

The day and my attitude can only improve. An hour from now and I’ll be the normal, happy, little bunny. Possibly. Hopefully. Think I’ll go and make Richard a coffee and have a little chat with him about Betsy, poor soul. Oh, and tell him he isn’t a dick, at least not by nature – only by name.

He appears to be writing a ‘to do’ list – on MY pad! He may be wearing the coffee?

 

Take care my lovelies x