Poor Baby.
I behaved extremely childishly this weekend; It started Friday night to be exact. Being childish is not something that I am prone to, but I thought what the hell, I’ll treat myself, I can’t remember the last time I had a good sulk. One of the symptoms of being childish is that despite knowing that you are behaving like a Pratt, you do nothing to stop it.
I had good reason to be angry, The day started badly and went downhill from there, so I wasn’t my usual cordial self but my behaviour on Friday was illogical, and whilst I am not in Spocks league I do try to be logical. I also pride my self on always maintaining control, but for some reason on this occasion out came the bottom lip and I gave as good a performance as any three-year-old. The funny thing is that it got the effect I desired.
I spent the rest of the weekend ignoring phone calls and text until Sunday when I relented and made myself available to the phone callers and texters. Now whilst I had a thoroughly good time feeling sorry for myself the people whom I was ignoring eventually got through and asked if I was ok.
Of course I felt guilty, of course I was ashamed of myself, and of course I apologised, the problem is despite being contrite I know I was right, at least about the original reason for loosing it.
It feels as though I have admitted I was wrong, when my only transgression was behaving like a twit.
I can feel a sulk coming on.
I had good reason to be angry, The day started badly and went downhill from there, so I wasn’t my usual cordial self but my behaviour on Friday was illogical, and whilst I am not in Spocks league I do try to be logical. I also pride my self on always maintaining control, but for some reason on this occasion out came the bottom lip and I gave as good a performance as any three-year-old. The funny thing is that it got the effect I desired.
I spent the rest of the weekend ignoring phone calls and text until Sunday when I relented and made myself available to the phone callers and texters. Now whilst I had a thoroughly good time feeling sorry for myself the people whom I was ignoring eventually got through and asked if I was ok.
Of course I felt guilty, of course I was ashamed of myself, and of course I apologised, the problem is despite being contrite I know I was right, at least about the original reason for loosing it.
It feels as though I have admitted I was wrong, when my only transgression was behaving like a twit.
I can feel a sulk coming on.
posted by Dave G at 9:59 am
4 Comments:
Of course we all want to know what it was all about.
Don't suppose you'll tell us though.
Kaz
It was about a woman, a piss artist and two men fighting. Havn't helped have I?
What is a piss artist?!
And no you didn't help. Do tell!
Lydia
A piss artist dear girl is someone who drinks a great deal and thinks of little else but drinking.
Modesty prevents me from elucidating on the whys and where fores of what happened, but suffice it to say I was a hero, well I thought I was anyway.
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