Irascible

Am still feeling discombobulated after last week’s crabby lunch and my crabby friend’s comment that those of us with virally caused throat cancer can expect it’s return sooner or later. This is anxiously compounded by having an MRI scan a few days ago and awaiting the result next Tuesday.

One of the many side effects of treatment and possibly the actualness of having/had cancer is anger. And as I laid upon my bed not contemplating writing a blog irascible popped into my head. It sounded good, obviously not good in it’s meaning and essence but good in terms of how it sounded and how it captured my present state. I’ve been getting angry quickly and frequently: with others, with things and stuff and mainly with myself. I wondered not only why, even though the reasons seem clear, but the nature of this anger and how too often I seem to actively seek things to be angry about. Hence the appositeness of irascible; ira from the Latin meaning anger (gives us ire) and the -sc which means becoming. This gives the word some action and my ‘looking for a fight’.

Now those who know me know that I am very placid, understanding, calm, conciliatory, and insouciant (what a brilliant word). Unfortunately it is the actual case that from an early age I was a contrarian and would actively seek confrontation, though often with a smile (and this often pissed others off even more although I didn’t mean it to). One of the earlier examples of this somewhat negative side of my character was at a disco at a local village hall in a small village called Stansted on the North Downs of Kent. One of my best mates at the time, another farmer’s boy called Dave, asked me what I’d been doing as we were getting a lot of angry looks from a number of local lads. I admitted that I might have been dancing in a provocative way that may have been misinterpreted. Our party decided to leave, as we quickly clambered into Dave’s car a large number from the disco had gathered outside and suddenly ran towards us, we drove off quickly. This would become a pattern in terms of my provoking others but never actually getting hit. Perhaps if someone had hit me and hurt me at any time I would have stopped.

Anyway, not really sure that all this is connected to my current irascibility. Perhaps finally this crabby bollocks is the accumulation of all those situations hitting me at once? In the immortal words of the song from Frozen I should ‘let it go’. But what is it?

Anyway as I’ve too often said, ‘so what?’

So, we’re off to Stratford-upon-Avon again tomorrow to celebrate Kate’s birthday, and she of all people doesn’t deserve any of my irascibility. We will be going to the theatre on Saturday night to see the last performance of Queen Anne and hopefully some distraction and relaxation and fun.

And as many of our exercise/diet related resolutions disappear into the sands of time know that reading a book for 50 minutes burns off the same calories as jogging for 19 minutes. So reading for a couple of hours whilst enjoying a glass of wine and a small snack is energy neutral.

Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.

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4 thoughts on “Irascible

  1. Duncan, are you trying to co-opt my moniker? Angry is mine! I OWN it! Not even the corrupt and vile tts have tried to steal this from me 😉

    Eric sounds like a Royal Twat of the First Order. If I were you I would not associate with such drongos – left wing you may be, but there is a limit old chap.

    Have fun in Stratford. Did I mention that my grandfather directed the theatre there in the 1950’s and Paul Robeson (for it was he) sung me a lullaby?

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  2. I’d never dream of misappropriating your moniker young man, but might consider irascible old man. And you have never told me about your grandfather, Is there be a photo of him in the Dirty Duck, we’re planning on going there after the performance. Did Mr Robeson sing Old Man Avon?

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