Okay, I’m cranky again. Not so long ago I had a big moan about the fact that I seem to have developed a bit of a routine, much to my dismay.  The main focus of my dyspepsia was the need to have my english muffin for breakfast every morning.  Well, that little item is proving to be my downfall.  Alright, so  that’s perhaps a bit of an overstatement, but it is the source of my crankiness again.  The problem is, there was only one brand of english muffin that met my rather exacting standards.  And now my super market has stopped carrying it.  It was the only place that I had found them; the other grocery stores that I frequent never have had them.  Well, I tried the supermarket’s ‘select’ brand — hey, I’m always ready to be pleasantly surprised.  Well, I wasn’t.  Blech.  Wrong.  Totally wrong.  It’s all about texture, and these have the texture of  . . . I’m guessing a cuttle bone.  Enough said about that.

It’s a good thing I have you guys to vent my crankiness on.  A good thing for me, that is.  Not so much good for you.  The problem with living alone, and not going out to work, is that there is no one around to share my crankiness with.  It’s disappointingly anti-climactic.  Oh, sure, I have the cats, but they don’t give a mouse’s hind end.  If I grumble to Pigeon, he just rolls over like a dog and offers his belly to be admired/scratched/warmed by the sun.  Useless.  Sophie is no better.  IF she is awake, she’ll just sit and stare at me like she does for hours every evening anyway.

I reckon there ought to be a place where people can phone to complain when they feel cranky.  For those of us who have no one here to listen, it would be perfect, and for those who do have someone around to listen, it might just be the thing to save the relationship.  What a good idea!  Why hasn’t someone thought of it before?

Oh, wait.  They have.  It’s called Talk-Back Radio.   Rats.  I thought I had a hot one, there for a minute.  Now I’m annoyed.                             MM