This is not a phrase I have ever had cause to use until recently. I hate swearing, but feel that 'bloody' and 'pissed off' have become strong words rather than swear words and, thus, have entered my language by the back door. The other day I was doing my usual rant about inept governments and their lack of environmental awareness and the consequences for all of us. The person I was speaking to said "You are pissed off with everything today." And she was right and I still am and so long as I stay pissed off and not become morose, I feel I am on positive ground, so to speak.
Morose is not a word I would ever have used about myself until recently either....hmmm...is there a theme happening here? But, there you go. After pissed off, closely following is stubbornly morose (I like the italics better). With the whole lack of rain thing, together with the oil thing and the environmental degradation thing and the food biodiversity thing and a whole lot of other things that I tend to care a lot about, it is a slippery slide to morose, from pissed off.
This morning when the garden group came, I had managed to get away from morose and told them I was pissed off, big time, with almost everything, but not them, of course. This idea of spending time gardening together is really wonderful therapy for any one of us who seems a bit out of sorts about something, which is not often but sometimes the case. Things can be thrashed out in the garden, with a bit of digging or pruning or shovelling and 5 women, all with different opinions and not afraid to voice them, and by the end the rough edges have been smoothed over and ruffled feathers preened and a pleasant humour restored. What is more, it is free and you and your garden get a workout at the same time!
The only trouble is that the problems mentioned before don't go away but, rather, get more acute every day as the solutions which seem bloody obvious to me remain elusive to anyone with the power to do something great about them. And so, pissed off returns a little faster than before and so enters morose again. Where do we go from here? I wish I could up and go a long, long way away to a land of milk (well, water, actually) and honey but those fences are always there and always bring compromises. Once again, ignorance would be bliss. Maybe I will just go and pig-out on wattleseed icecream instead!