Yeah, I’m totally fucked. And not in a good way. It’s after midnight as I write this. I have a meeting in just under 8 hours, and the sleep is nowhere to be found. I think the sleep is staying away since I wasted most of today in a crabby-faced funk not speaking to anyone. It really kind of sucked. It was the kind of funk where you wanted to bite people in the face for breathing in your general direction. It was the kind of funk that a healthy meal, or ho-hos, or orgasms could not penetrate. Neither could the Replacements, Mike Doughty or Outkast.
It was fucking thick y’all.
But the funk has lifted and I’m really quite happy about that. It really is no fun being a crabby bitch, even if it is only in your head. Of course the funk was not a total loss. Since i was in anti-social, pretty homicidal mode, I ditched any pretense of self-restraint and spent a good portion of the evening eating up King Dork. Which, in retrospect, was probably the best way to spend my time. I’m happy, the book is rocking the ever-loving casbah, and nobody was harmed.