To my readers: you don't really have to read this, I guess, it's a bit of an anthill into mountains; I just needed to get this out of the system, because it's hit a nerve on some basic level in ways that surprised me, it's late in the evening, I have no one to share with at the moment and I don't want to end the day with it rattling about in my head.
If you're inclined to self-assessment, though, I guess it could be interesting.
If you don't want to, just jump straight to the cuteness. If I've figured this cut thing out correctly.
I've just had a knee-jerk reaction to a knee-jerk reaction that didn't know it was a knee-jerk reaction... someone with a bone to pick (I assume) with the misusage of "Czech" as a place-name, which it isn't, and the hobby-horse (I assume) of advocating the usage of "Czechia" for my country, misread a comment of mine on another site and corrected me on a mistake I didn't make.
And I wrote two comments, one aggravated and one apologetical but possibly incorrect and minutes later, deleted them and wrote another, less heated.
And I just don't want to end this day on that aggravated note; it's not so much, anymore, that original comment, although that still annoys me, as my own strong reaction to it.
My sister's really interested in the Socionics personality theory (which, I'm told, is a lot like Myers-Briggs, except not at all); I do not intend to delve deeply into it, but I do find many of the principles helpful, also for my writing, and every now and then we'd have a long conversation about it. One of her own theories is that your basic characteristics are what you're really angry about if someone tells you you don't have it / you aren't.
I wasn't entirely sure what it was for me, meaning I couldn't remember what got me really, really angry relating to myself. I've just found out, or rather re-discovered, that I really, really hate being corrected on something I know I didn't get wrong.
Re-discovered: There was a teacher I had for several years at grammar school who seemed to hate teaching the subject he did and take it out on us, calling us stupid, basically. He turned me off physics; he is, in many ways, the reason I'm now much more focused on humanities than I once was. There was at least one time when I went to his desk after having received a corrected test with a bad grade, and argued with him that it wasn't wrong. Which, in retrospect, I find rather amazing, because I've long had this notion of myself as a shy child in class; but goodness, did I ever correct my teachers whenever I was sure of something, cheeky like a monkey!
I think it does, somehow, go with what my sister thinks I am, but it's certainly not what I thought it was.
So. I'm not quite sure what to make of this self-discovery right now, but it has served its purpose: I'm no longer as fuming red as the bunny below. I'm just left wondering how not to have a stupid knee-jerk reaction I'd have to delete minutes later online, next time someone hits a nerve.
And because I did say I didn't want to end the day on that note, let's end it on this: the first baby wild horse born in the Czech lands (ha!) in centuries. (Okay, technically an Exmooor pony. Which apparently recent research indicates is as close to the original wild horse as it gets.)