I’m trying not to be grouchy. I’m trying not to react to a coworker who, in his own fear spiral, lashed out at me yesterday. I’m trying not to scream at the workers next door who decided to vibrate my house this morning at 7:15 a.m. with their power tools. I’m trying. It’s not working so well. I lay in bed this morning thinking of all sorts of responses to the coworker. I even began drafting an email in my head, but I reminded myself that I did not want to get sucked into his thing. Still not satisfying. I asked the workers next door to close the windows to the house so that it wasn’t so obnoxiously loud, and they did. Now I can hear the noise, but it isn’t vibrating my house. My little one is next door playing in her bedroom, talking to her toys. This squelches some of the grumpiness. Mainly it’s just this damn grey weather. We had sun for a few days and I started feeling normal again, but then the last two days, we have this droopy, cloud on the ground, grey colorlessness, and my bitterness returns. For someone of Scandinavian descent, I certainly don’t manage winter well. I have often wondered whether humans were meant to live in such weather. If we evolved in the deserts of Africa, maybe our brains are designed for that sort of light. Of course at that time we also moved an average of 12 miles per day, on our own legs. Now it’s lucky if we move 1000 feet in one day on our own legs. Bipedal sun brains. Anyway, the grouchy isn’t completely gone; it’s beaten back for a while. Baby is coming to see me. That should help.