March 27: New-Born Resolutions, Cranky Night, Cranky Morning

He looked about in that very place for his own image; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and though the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being there, he saw no likeness of himself among the multitudes that poured in through the Porch.  It gave him little surprise, however; for he had been revolving in his mind a change of life, and thought and hoped he saw his new-born resolutions carried out in this.

By this point in A Christmas Carol, Scrooge has pretty much decided to change his ways.  However, he hasn't witnessed the terrifying visions of death and despair awaiting him in this stave with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.  I honestly think that the third spirit was sent to just seal the deal of Scrooge's redemption.  It's fairly difficult to return to business as usual after you have seen your own death chamber and grave.  I know I might change a few things, not the least of which would be my underwear.

I'm sure Scrooge's "new-born resolutions" involve being kinder to Bob, helping out Tiny Tim, maybe attending a few Christmas parties.  He hasn't reached the point of actually being scared shitless for his eternal soul yet.  That will come in a couple pages.  "Resolutions" is such a polite word.  It doesn't bring to mind visions of bodies on deathbeds or rats gnawing walls.  It's more of a New Year's thing:  Scrooge vows to lose ten pounds by the summer.  That kind of thing.  He's not down on his knees, weeping, vowing to change his life.

What are you looking at, meathead?

I was really cranky last night.  I snapped at my daughter and wife.  I sat in the living room in my usual chair, sounding like Archie Bunker, minus the racism.  It got so bad that my wife looked at me and said, "What the hell's your problem tonight?"  And I coldn't answer her question.  I lapsed into sullen silence after she said that to me.  I figured it was a better option than opening my mouth and getting myself into real trouble.

My cranky night has translated into a cranky morning.  When my coworkers started showing up, I didn't really want to talk to them.  I knew I would come off sounding just this side of bitchy.  I was even annoyed by the sound of people eating today.  So I made a resolution to keep my mouth shut until the urge to insult or kill someone passed.

I'm doing better right now.  I can actually speak without a hint of sarcasm or irony in my voice.  I'm doing better.  (I have to keep saying that.  It's my mantra.)  Since I started this little Charles Dickens blogging exercise, I've often wondered how I would appear to myself if I could watch past, present, and future Saint Martys.  I wonder if I would change anything.  Make new-born resolutions or vows.  Last night and this morning taught me an important lesson:  my attitude and demeanor directly affect the people around me.

Therefore, although I'm not on my knees, I make this vow:

Saint Marty will not piss anyone off today.  Especially not his wife.