August 11, 2025
When it comes to today’s Thought of the Day and Question of the Day, we’re venturing into the prickly world of grudges, how we hold them, how long we hold them, and whether we keep the edge sharp or let it dull. Today’s combination has a little bite and a lot of honesty.
Thought of the Day
“I don’t bury hatchets, I sharpen them.” — Wednesday Addams
Some people believe in forgiveness. Others believe in forgetting. And then there’s Wednesday Addams, who believes in keeping a metaphorical weapon in peak condition, just in case.
There’s a certain dark comfort in the idea of sharpening a hatchet instead of burying it. It’s not about going full villain, it’s about acknowledging that some grievances deserve a little space in the mental filing cabinet labeled Do Not Trust Again.
If you’re honest, you probably have a few of these tucked away. Maybe it’s the friend who “forgot” to pay you back. Or the coworker who claimed your idea was theirs in a meeting. These moments don’t always call for revenge, but they also don’t always call for pretending it didn’t happen.
Holding on to the knowledge of what someone’s capable of isn’t toxic. It’s just smart. And sometimes, the hatchet you sharpen isn’t to use, it’s to remind yourself you’re worth defending.
If you like this kind of self-awareness with a smirk, you might also enjoy arguing with stupid people or throwing stones at barking dogs.
Question of the Day
How long do you hold a grudge?
For me, it’s about 32 minutes. That’s long enough to be genuinely mad, short enough to avoid making it awkward forever. It’s the sweet spot between “I’ll remember this until my dying breath” and “I forgive you too quickly and now you think this is fine.”
Of course, the length of a grudge can depend on the offense. Forgetting my birthday? A few hours. Eating the last slice of pizza I’d been saving? Possibly until the next presidential administration.
The truth is, grudges aren’t all bad. They can be tiny boundaries in disguise, helping us decide who deserves the front row of our lives and who gets a seat in the balcony, preferably behind a pillar.
If you’ve got thoughts on this, you might enjoy my musings on what people misunderstand about you or my take on what’s worth letting good things die.
Your Turn
Do you bury your hatchets, sharpen them, or toss them entirely? And how long does a grudge survive in your personal record book? Drop your answer in the comments—and if you want more of these daily sparks, sign up for my free email that brings you a new Thought of the Day and Question of the Day every morning.