He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.
P. G. Wodehouse, 1938, The Code of the Woosters
I am not disgruntled.
but I'm not exactly gruntled, either.
the word disgruntled has been in use since the 1600's, but it wasn't until about 1926 that someone decided there should be a "gruntled" to contrast it. this is--in my opinion--one of those words that just doesn't quite work. gruntled does not sound at all like being in good humor, which is what it is supposed to represent. it sounds more like rooting around, grunting, being annoyed . . . rather like being disgruntled, I suppose.
regardless, I am not exactly gruntled.
maybe it's the continuously gray skyed dry and monotonous "winter" we're experiencing, maybe it's that I'm tired of being cold. maybe it's the third phase of power camp where excitement (and attendance by others) has waned and the work load is heavy, maybe it's that aspects of my work life seem to have stagnated, maybe it's that I haven't been up enough canyons. maybe it's a combination of all of these things, with dashes and pinches of others as well.
and thus I sit here somewhere between disgruntled and gruntled, waiting for little miracles to tip me into gruntledom.
hope you're on the gruntled side today, and I hope to join you there shortly.
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