I am seriously out of sorts. I don't know why. I don't. Just a phase, I hope. I was excited about going to a party Saturday night until they sent email on Friday advising they'd decided to make it a dry party because someone planning to attend had recently admitted to having a problem with alcohol. That made me unreasonably upset. I rarely drink, and the only time I truly enjoy it is at a party. I very nearly didn't go. No supportiveness here for someone who can't handle their addiction. Maybe if they'd told me who it was... but they wouldn't, it's not public yet, so I couldn't muster even the faintest hint of caring. I know all about self medicating, so don't think I'm taking the moral high ground here, I just don't have any patience left. My reserves are dangerously low. Life has been rough lately, and I desperately wanted to have a drink or two with friends in a party atmosphere. Instead, I had a Diet Coke and a hissy fit.
Jesus H. Christ. What a charming picture.
I enjoyed talking to everyone at the party, but I decided not to go back to the second day's festivities. John went as he wasn't sufferering from self-pity, crabbiness, or stupid miserable antiquated software problems for a Philosophy class. It's bad enough that I have a hard time with the subject; I don't need a piece of crap software "for MAC" that offers a manual with instructions for troubleshooting in DOS or on Windows 95 only, and that doesn't actually allow me to print my homework because it only works on Macs made before 1998 apparently, which means I have to take a screenshot, save it to Photoshop, and print that out so I can prove I did my assignments.
Go on, ask me how I really feel.
So what have I done this weekend besides work myself into a snit? Friday I booked myself a massage with the resident masseuse at the gym, and it was wonderfully relaxing. I decided to alternate seeing her and the chiropractor every other month; call it preventative medicine. I did every bit of laundry. I mopped the kitchen floor, not as frequent an occurence as it ought to be. I played the Sims and decided nobody should have jobs in Sim land because it means they can never have parties, so I stopped making them go to work and most of them got fired. I slept in, and took naps. I read the rest of the Gertrude Bell biography, very timely as it goes into vast detail about the history and politics of the Middle East during the first 30 years of the 20th century. I bought the newest Ursula Le Guin novel at the bookstore because I am thrilled that she's written more stories set in Ea (which is what the inhabitants of my MOO call their earth, by the way -- no one's ever commented on the Le Guin reference). I put Tales From Earthsea on my wishlist so I'll remember to buy it.
John brought me some chocolate from the party. He is really very nice to me when I don't deserve it. He scrubbed the bathroom and mopped the floor there. He gave me a footrub, too. Have I ever mentioned what a wonderful man he is? John is a wonderful man.
And I am not normally crabby, or selfish, or self-pitying. So it must be a phase. Please let it be a phase.
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