Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Grumpy.


I am grumpy. And grouchy. I hate those words because they feel like inadequate descriptions and somewhat childish * . It's hard to find a word to describe how I feel though. I'm not angry. I'm not sad. I'm just...off.

You know...grumpy. Or maybe grouchy.



Reasons why I'm grumpy and/or grouchy:
1) My throat really hurts.
2) My stomach hurts.
3) I still have more than two weeks worth of school **
3a) I have no job yet. Yeep.
3aI) I have no money.
4) I have assignments to do still and I can't focus. Grrr...
5) I want to be creative and play with fabric and paint and clay (err...not all as one project)
6) My room is a complete fucking disaster. I managed to put away some fabric last night, but it's still really bad. I'm hoping that a new strategy will work...I'll probably give it its own post, because I don't really have much in the way of inspiration lately.

*probably because the first thing I associate with those words are cartoon characters and muppets. Grumpy of "Seven Dwarf" fame, and Oscar the Grouch.

**On the flip side, I've only got about two weeks left of school.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeeeeeeeeks.

I have an army in my room. (Uhhh...NNY...you might not want to read the rest of this. Close the browser or leave the page. No pictures, but you will be grossed out. Seriously. Remember the tick picture.) Let's refer to this army as "space invaders" because I hate even the sight of the shape of that word. Anyway, these "space invaders" are most commonly of the variety "familiar name for male parent, opposite of short, lower extremities". On any given day, I'll see three or so of them around my bathroom. Bleah. I hate killing stuff, "space invaders" included, but this was getting ridiculous. And I don't mind this kind nearly as much as the icky gross bleahhhhhh "space invaders" that I used to see. But then...THEN! I saw two of them ATTACKING AND KILLING one of the icky bleah ones! WICKED! One of them did it again today. This pleases me greatly.

So, here's the deal. The "familiar name for male parent, opposite of short, lower extremities" get to stay. If they venture outside my bathroom or on anything that is not wall, ceiling or some floor, they're open game. Otherwise, they can just sit around and do their canabalistic thing.

One thing that more than sort of bothers me...how many of the other "space invaders" ARE there in my room to support at least five or six of the others. Best not to dwell on that too much...I may just discover the answer when I start moving furniture around to vacuum.

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