Call Me Grumpy


I was an absolute grump tonight at one of the last socials of the holiday season.

For context, in my country, the holiday season starts late September and lasts until mid-January.  I know, it doesn’t seem to make sense, but despite all the parties we’ve attended the prior year, there is a two week window for post-holiday celebrations with the groups of friends that you weren’t able to meet up with because one’s social calendar was already jam-packed before New Year.

And now, I’m exhausted, congested, irritable and with no filter.  Even my best friend was getting on my nerves with her name dropping and constant pursuit of gourmet food, Michelin-starred chefs, designer bags, and travel.  I just found it to be so pretentious, but I suppose had I been in a better mood, I would have just ignored it and not let myself be bothered by it.

Part of my angst was the realization that, after getting together with all my various groups of friends, that I was indeed financially poor. No, I can’t buy that Hermes Birkin on a whim.  I can’t just get a new car even if mine is already falling apart and I have to indian sit by the roadside because all I can afford is to superglue the driver car door handle so that I can get inside it.  I can’t just join in the conversation that starts with, “We were planning to go to Greece this summer.”  Or have a ready answer to, “We’re going to Vegas for our reunion; are you going?”

And although I know that these conversations are inevitable in this worldly dimension, that happens to be the dimension I’m living in right now.  Yes, there are moments when the more divine part of my nature shines through and there is respite somewhat, but this dimension is where I’m at right now.  Here.  In this world, in this time, in this place — where I happen to be poorer than my companions.

So, I suppose that since I’ve thrown my love life out the window for the moment, that the creation of wealth will be my preoccupation the rest of my days.  How very  hoi polloi of me.

Anyway, I think my loner side wants to kick in.  I need some peace, quiet, and serenity. Even just to come to terms with how stupid my pre-soul contract self was.

There’s an incongruence between what the cards say, what my guides say, what the signs say and what my reality is, and I can’t figure it out.


About ButterKate

Mistress of MuMu and Maximus ; highly complex Gemini; semi-jaded romantic; purveyor of inane and profound conversation; incessant chocoholic; caffeine-free; mad driver on the road; pheromone questor; control freak; neurotic disguised with calm outer appearance; sufficiently amiable when placid, terrifying when provoked; occasional ditz; sporadic provider of life altering insights; retired poet; provider of mischief as the need arises; patron of destiny advisers; truth-teller (yes, the emperor has no clothes).

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