Being self righteous, being wrong
I fail within the first moments of the morning: self righteous anger takes hold. It’s almost 10, sunshine is flooding the garden, there is much to do. He’s in bed. I can’t even bring myself to say ‘good morning’. ‘Did you take a sleeping pill last night?’ as I pull the curtains apart. ‘Yes’. ‘What time?’ ‘12.30’. ‘It’s almost 10. You say you get up at 8 every morning. You only do that at the weekends.’ And there is this and that to be done. I tell him. ‘Great way to start the day,’ he says miserably. I know I shouldn’t have done that. He’s stony all day.
During breakfast Ma and I discuss the book we’re reading, Miss Garnet’s Angel. She talks of ‘homosexuals’. She is appalled. I tell her that it is a very good thing that being gay is recognised as natural and is accepted by society. ‘No, no! Come on.’ She cannot accept that being gay is okay, and she never will. I have to accept this about her but I find it difficult. I leave the table as the anger is rising quickly in me.