everything is wonderful now.


Sweet Jesus, guys. I hate it when I'm excessively dumb. I expect a certain level of, “Duh, huh?” from myself by now, but sometimes I really raise the bar on stupid.

Take this week as an example. I have been in a mood for the past three days, a full-on, yelling-at-Michael, clenched-fists mood. I have had to shut the door and storm outside to kick the fence on occasion, because otherwise I would have yelled at my baby. I've found myself using my laser vision on unsuspecting Wal-Mart clerks, scowling as hard as I could while steam rose from my ears and my nostrils flared wide enough to expose my cerebral cortex to the store's annoyingly flickery fluorescent lights. I could not figure out what I was mad about, but you'd better believe I was going to let the world know about it anyway.

I hadn't had any coffee since Tuesday, y'all. I mean, say it with me: DUH. No, really, it's okay. Say it louder. DUH! I'm sleep-deprived, temporarily broke, in the middle of completely reorganizing the apartment, and bored. Am I going to get through this without my daily cups of nuclear-strength goodness? No, I do not think so.

I've recaffeinated myself now. It's okay. The cats are poking their noses out from behind the sofa all, “… Mrew?” and so far they've all survived. I can't believe what a bitch monster I was this week, though. I used to go without coffee all the time. I was coffee-free for over a year, and I was also sleep-deprived and often hungover. What gives?

Oh, yeah. I was a bitch then, too. I feel better now, but this week has been an object lesson: when you're trying to find a balance, trying to get healthy, trying to feel better — don't fuck it up. Don't change a single thing. Do not think you can skip the water for a couple of days and still be chipper, don't leave your coffeemaker to collect dust over the weekend, don't miss even one meal. Don't do it. It's a one-way ticket to pain-in-the-ass-ville. Mood disorders are not for those who can't stick to a routine, yo.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take my wired self out to look for sinkholes. All these bodies are starting to stink up the apartment.

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