The Mean Purples

I'm sitting here at work eating Reese's Pieces and I'm not even hungry and I don't really even feel like eating them but hello it's February. And February makes me stabby. I've already explained this term to friends on Facebook (although now that I think about it, I never did explain it because February also makes me forgetful), but I'll go ahead and cover it here too. Stabby is that feeling when you are irritated with the world but mostly you're irritated with yourself and you might want to stab out your own eyeballs. I've been sitting here all week (which is technically all month too- ha ha awesome) trying to figure out why I've been making some not-so-fantastic decisions and experiencing major inertia and getting really annoyed with myself. It's not like I'm wallowing exactly, I'm just pissy.

That's right everybody, it's my annual (oh I wish it were that rare) whiny mid-winter blog post. So let's run through it, shall we?

Work is seriously sucking this week (month) with too much going on because heaven forbid stuff comes to me all in one neat line but instead piles up until suddenly I'm buried. That makes me stabby. I feel like I could have handled things differently in the past month to prevent that, but if I tell my control-freak side to shut up I have to admit I couldn't have done too much.

I got to go to the dentist AND the lady-doctor on Monday. Good times! (I don't know why I said lady-doctor instead of gynecologist. He's not a lady! He just looks at lady-parts!) (Vaginas, Heather, let's be grownups here.)

A certain jackass who shall remain nameless stood me up this week (in an incident unrelated to my previous post by the way- HELLO anyone should have seen that coming!) and I haven't heard from him again even though by all rules of etiquette and the basics of relating to other human beings I should have. Things were just starting to get interesting. OH HELL YES that makes me stabby too.

It's raining. In the south. In February. And I'm PMSing and I finished my Reece's Pieces and they were oddly unsatisfying. I think I want an entire loaf of bread. I will eat it with butter and it will be delicious.

Probably if I went to the gym I would feel a lot better and I wouldn't be so hungry (working out kills my appetite). Then me and my noodle arms could get back to the important stuff: parking it on the couch and watching lots of Ally McBeal and Lost. Because when I am frustrated and irritated I watch a lot of TV.

Ohhhh yes, I am charming! Who wouldn't want to hang out with me these days? Suck it up girl, you have 24 days to go. If I'm gonna be cranky, I might as well keep my sense of humor so I don't have a freak accident involving my right eye and a ball point pen.