It Changes With the Wind

So yesterday I woke up all about love. I was all hearts and teddy bears and rainbows and batting eyelashes and butterflies. It was a little sickening, yes. But it happens. And when it happens, it does feel lovely. But it always passes rather quickly.

Hence, my mood today. A stark contrast to my googley-eyed demeanor of yesterday, I am more bitter and tired than loving and affectionate. It has nothing to do with Billy, or any events that occurred besides the fact that I fell asleep and woke up. That's really the only thing to which I can trace this mood.

But now that it's here, everything is aggravating it.

Everything, like:

1) It's snowing. It is fucking snowing. And sleeting and freezing rain. And it's windy. And, oh yeah, it's fucking APRIL! There's something very wrong with waking up on an April morning and seeing flurries.

2) Because it's snowing, I chose to wear a turtleneck. But not just any turtleneck, my favorite sweater. It's a wool sweater, probably knit by someone in Mexico or Japan, but looks like it could've been carefully crafted by my grandmother. It is in the most beautiful shade of mottled blue, not unlike a robin's egg. It's gorgeous. And, I got it on sale: $25 down from $100! But, it is very, very, very itchy. So I wore silk underwear underneath. Naturally. But the silk undershirt I have on doesn't protect my very sensitive neck. And the sweater, at this very moment, not only itches like a million mosquito bites, but is also sort of choking me. So I've got that going for me.

3) I have a strict policy that dictates that, whenever I wear a turtleneck, I wear my hair up or back. It has to do with my low tolerance of anything in my face during the day. And I notice that turtleneck + hair-down = a lot of hair in my face all day long. PLUS, I feel like my face is being suffocated by said turtleneck + hair-down combination. Did I mention I hate having hair in my face? So, anyway, normally, I'd have my hair up in a classy little low ponytail or a fancy French twist with a mess of curls on top. But when I dried my hair this morning, scrunching it and scrunching it to achieve the right amount of curl to perfect either of my two preferred hairstyles, I noticed that I was having an awesome hair day. So I threw caution to the wind and abandoned my tried and true rule of no wearing your hair down when you're in a turtleneck...Especially an itchy turtleneck. And it has been horrible. I'm constantly brushing loose tendrils of hair from my face. And it's slowly reaching the point where I may be forced to either a) rip out my hair or b) rip off the sweater and work in my silk undershirt. Tres sexy.

4) Because of the undiagnosed OCD that forces me to fixate on how irritated I am by my sweater and my hair (which, by the way, despite thoroughly pissing me off, does look positively awesome), I cannot concentrate. I don't have much to do at work as it is, but spending all of my energy focusing on how frustrated I am does not allow for much excess energy for completing the two - count 'em, two - tasks I have on my agenda for today: Enter some bills, call a customer. And what am I doing? Blogging about how annoyed I am that I can't concentrate on my work.

5) The fax machine jammed. Three times. On the same fucking page of the same fucking fax. The only way to get it to go through was to fax each page separately. That kicked ass.

6) There's a woman who calls here every day. Every. Day. She's a customer of ours, and apparently, she is of the mindset that harassing us on a daily basis will keep her present in our minds and therefore get us to finish her job faster. She calls each day, before 8:30 with an equally stupid and unnecessary question. Many times, she's "just checking in." I can't stand it. But, the thing is, she's really nice. So I can't hate her. And she's always so sweet to me when she calls, telling me it's a pleasure to talk to me in the morning because I'm so nice and cheery. How can you hate that? So it puts me in quite a quandary. Do I spend more energy being annoyed that she has now called TWICE today, or do I just focus on how pleasant she is when she talks to me? Given my mood, it's fair to say I'm leaning towards hating her, but there's that little piece of me that just wants to give her a break.

7) I went to have my breakfast earlier (a sliced banana with vanilla yogurt), and after opening the yogurt, I saw that there were no spoons. Nor were there any bowls. This vexes me. Because I like to slice the banana into a bowl, then drown it in the yogurt and eat the two together. So, because I am stubborn, I sliced the banana into a tupperware container, dumped the yogurt on top, and ate it with a fork. Which was fine for the fruit part of the breakfast, but a little challenging when it came to actually getting the somewhat runny yogurt from the bowl to my mouth.

8) My desk is a mess. And it's really not my fault. Because, somehow, over the course of the three hours I've been here so far, there have been numerous items left by other people. Files, catalogues, magazines, mail, schedules. It's making me feel claustrophobic.

9) Fuck, my neck itches.

But it's not all bad. I've taken to putting big pink Xs on my calendar as each day passes and brings me one step closer to my trip to Belize. Twenty-two days away and counting. And all I have to do in that time is a) get my body bikini ready (and I'm guessing the half block of Gruyere Cheese and a fig-n-almond pie/cake thing Billy and I ate on Sunday aren't helping that situation) b) tan c) figure out what the hell to pack and d) figure out how best to get my hair to look awesome when I'm constantly in and out of the water. For the record, I think item "d" is impossible, but I'm going to give it a shot. Because I don't really fancy the idea of looking like a drowned animal for a good three-quarters of my vacation. So, we'll see.

I'm really looking forward to later tonight when I get home and get the fuck out of this sweater. Because, then, I'll be comfortable and watching American Idol. And probably eating too much. But at least I won't be itchy.