"And the angel clothéd all in white opened the Iron Book, and a fifth rider appeared in a chariot of burning ice, and there was a snapping of laws and a breaking of bonds and the multitude cried "Oh God, we're in trouble now!"
Book Of Om, Prophecies of Tobrun: Chapter 2, verse 7.
From the first edition (since rescinded).*
Oh yes, I am not the bunny who is happy today. I've grouched in the morning and I've grouched in the evening and I daresay I'll grouch at suppertime too for good measure. I am grouchy to the left and grouchy to the right and grouchy everywhere in between. Fear my grouchiness.
The reason for the Grouch is the Pain and the reason for the Pain is the Cold and the Snow. I don't do well with cold and snow. Every muscle is tightened, every joint is throbbing with white-hot pain. Dealing with the pain makes me exhausted and being exhausted makes it more difficult to deal with the pain. Always and in everything this sodding pain as a consistent acid-laced thread and I have had ENOUGH.
During the course of today I have had far too many immediate and disproportionate mental responses to the tiniest of transgressions. Generally it has involved a fervent wish for something extremely uncomfortable to be shoved in a distinctly unpleasant orifice belonging to whichever unfortunate mortal has been foolish enough to cross my path.
I think any minute now I may cross that line between 'being a bit prickly' and 'being a bit of a prick'. So I'm typing up this blogpost to try and avoid doing that in public or to someone who doesn't deserve it.
Thank you for your patience.
* as detailed in Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett.