Out of control

So…I’ve had something of an altercation with one of my churchwardens over some equipment that was “safely” left in the vestry and which was then sold, in the way that you don’t with somebody else’s stuff. The details are not important. Naturally, the altercation has been expressed entirely through polite, friendly, simmering unspoken resentment, because we’re Anglicans.

But I was discussing with Alastair a polite, simmering note I received yesterday from said churchwarden, and he told me the whole thing was outrageous and that if he was me he would “dip his pen in poison” and retaliate through the powerful medium of words.

I just smiled and shook my head, enjoying my aura of quiet grace.

This morning I went for a swim and with every length found my strokes becoming more aggressive and Alastair’s poison pen running paragraphs past my slightly sleep-deprived mind. When I got home I put them all into a letter, which turns the heat under “simmering” up to “boiling slightly” and does away with the friendly bit. I then angrily sent six or seven emails to various unrelated people in much the same vein.

So…er…basically, if you’ve received an unaccountably rude email from me this morning…well, sorry.

And if you read about any great rifts in the Anglican communion this week – that’s my fault.

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