Unthankful

English: A sand sculpture of the Dr. Seuss cha...

The Grinch (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Just to be contrary and to prove that it is not Thanksgiving here (Canada) tomorrow I thought I would write a post about all the things I am not thankful for. I am not often aggressively contrary –perhaps a little passive aggressive at times, but aren’t we all?

 No?

So it is just me—well, then—let me get on with my ungrateful list anyway:

1.  I washed one of my favourite sweaters with an errant Kleenex (actually it was a Scotties tissue) left in the pocket of my jeans. It is now covered in big white pills of tissue, strips of tissue, and especially wonderful—a million little itty bitty pieces of tissue. I try to forget that I really like this charcoal coloured V-neck and that it complemented about a million things in my wardrobe because I am really not up to harvesting all the bits, pieces and strips of tissue. I am very ungrateful for that stupid tissue.

2. I am quite unthankful for fact that I am not supposed to drink with the new medication I am on. I am not a big drinker (a bottle of wine lasts a week and a half at my house) but on occasion I do enjoy a tipple. Must admit I cheat a little, but with the permission of a pharmacist who says I can have half a glass of wine.

3. I am not grateful for all those people who got out there while the weather was still fine and put up their outside Christmas decorations and lights. Don’t they know that the whole spirit of the thing depends on frozen digits and runny noses?

4. I do not give thanks for the bad things that happen to me for the wisdom that they are supposed to impart. I can learn just as well from the good things.

5. I do not give thanks for socks with holes in the toes. Or the heels. But most especially for holes in the toes.

6. I am waiting for the infernal fashion of bare legs to be over. Who started this? Whoever it was—I am ungrateful for them.

7. I am really unhappy that a lot of the styles I wore three and a half decades ago are back in fashion—but I can no longer partake.

 Okay that is enough complaining—where is that half glass of wine I am allowed?

What are you ungrateful for? (American friends—you do not have to answer this.)