Exile, is what I get at this age. Behind, is where I have to leave all I have achieved. My castles are burnt to ground, my Waterloo has been forced upon me & now Napoleon is among the few feeling my loss. Farewell, civilised world.
There are loads of triggers & stimulations that continously & simultanously bug my patience. But I suspect my recent impatience is in no way in connection with them but somehow related to my "patience contraction" due to the freezing winter days. There must be a relationship, musn't it??