Sometimes I think being grumpy is like the universe’s revenge on you for having a good day. Yesterday was a good day. The kind of day where I trusted my instincts (with some help from Sister #2) and decided to not chase a job that I was pretty sure I didn’t want. The whole ordeal had been causing me a lot of internal angst and once I made the decision to not go down that road I was left jelly-legged with relief.

Today is a horse of a different color (okay, that made me laugh). Today I’m so fucking crabby that well, I don’t even know what. I’m bugging the shit out of myself. Basically, I’ve spent the entire day arguing with myself about how crabby I am. The conversations go like this:
“Hey, why don’t we do X?” I say to myself.
“I don’t want to do X!” Myself says.
“Okay, let’s do Y! It’ll be so fun/productive/good/what have you.” I say
“I don’t feel like doing Y.” Myself says
“So then maybe we can do Z?”
“Fuck that, Z sucks ass.”
“FINE!” I say to myself, getting a little huffy.” “Let’s just sit here and pout about how cranky we are but not actually do anything to alleviate the crank that makes perfect sense.”
“Hrmph!” I say and then stop talking to myself because I’m bugging me.

I don’t even know what would make me less crabby. I’ve worked out, I’ve eaten a healthy lunch, I’ve taken a long hot bath, I tried M&Ms — nothing works. I’m down to orgasms or booze. If neither of those work I might just, well, I am not sure what I’ll do because I have to remain in good health for tomorrow’s River Rocks Festival featuring Mike Doughty and Semisonic.

Grrrr.