Week Two

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So this week I’m Queen of the Grumps. Not just a little bit grumpy, slightly pissed off or mildly moody. No, I’m in full-on, ‘Don’t fucking fuck with me mode.’ Nah, pretty it ain’t. I make the Grinch look like the Dalai Lama. What has prompted this bout of “Severely fucked-offitis”? Who knows. I think it could be due to many reasons. The weather (fuck it’s cold), being home too much, no fucking exercise, eating shite, very shite food…being a white, western, moany bitch. And finally, I think it is cos I miss people on Facebook. Really. I miss hearing little funny comments from people. I don’t miss hearing people whining about their fucked up lives (As you can see I’ve got the whining part covered myself, thanks very much) but I did have a sizable amount of friends who were fucking hilarious, who wrote funny shite and would make me chuckle heartily in the most inappropro places.

So now, I clearly need to go get my connection on in other ways. The world of research is divided on how Facebook can make you feel. Some say it boosts a feeling of connection, others say all the bragging, pictures of yourself in a bikini, (who cares that the pic was ten years ago, pre-kids and divorce etc.), makes your friends feel hopeless, lonely and leaves them with an unhealthy dose of F.O.M.O (Oh how I love a good acronym)…which stands for Fear of missing out syndrome.

So the answer is, if you are still reading, who fucking knows. In my quest to find out, I stumbled on a website:

http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/feeling_connected_makes_us_kind/

That website says, studies show a sense of connection makes us kind. So maybe that’s why I got the Queen of the Grumps crown this week…Aaaannnd, according to the article if I go off and perform five selfless acts, I will feel better. So I will. I’ll post what I did and the results on the blog. In the meantime, I’ve got six kids coming home after school and my house looks like a World War Two bombsite. Pah. Housework. That is sure to put me in a bad mood, for there is nothing worst that fucking housework. However, I have a cunning plan. I will crank up the groove and funk music, housework be damned. The radio has already belted out Alphabet Street by Prince and now, Donna Summer is doing her best serenade with ‘I’m every woman’. So I’m off to dust those saquatches to oblivion. Laters.

 

 

 

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