Moody Meow

I woke up wanteing to kill. I know it’s just me being tired. So much on the table, so much to digest. I put myself in this basket. But, I feel upended. My breasts’ weight pulls me forward. They want to rest on the desk. I want to rest in my bed. Perhaps punching someone would make me feel better. No. My heavy, achy mammaries would bounce. That kind of ache pulls groans from your belly, deep within where the managable but heavy kind of pain sleeps. I want to kill. Perhaps I should just have a cup of coffee.

Today is one of my mean-spirited days. My face feels like an oil slick and I know my brows are knit in concentration. Perhaps I should wear my glasses more. The headache’s back. You know the one, it starts monday, lingering in the hall like stale air, and you come to Friday and feel it again. I think I need a nap. Maybe I need to kill. David, what should I do? You always know best. (please don’t be mad at me if I’m mean today….just send me to bed). I have a lot to look forward to this weekend, but it’s not making this mood float past rage. What could I possibly be mad about? Dogs and cats are swimming in slime and filth, wandering the streets looking for food. My creatures are safe (and Pip’s gone back in the crate for the 8 hour days - got one of D’s books) and I can provide for them.

Out of this mood I must go.
Think of happy things:
the shaving lotion we use still lingers on my legs
the new shower curtain lets in more light, making shaving and other hair removal easier
Voodoo was chasing his tail in the bathroom again, but he does it while lying down.
I shall see Miss A and the fam on Saturday, and I am quite thrilled.
Vanya and D and I are going to do brunch on Sunday… someone send her groovy vibes - Vanya needs them.
Tonight I have a conversation planned with women…. it should be interesting.
Deep Dish’s new album makes me happy
I think the coffee is kicking in.

I should just suck it up and deal.