Today was a little on the shitty side.I woke up in a sour mood over something I wish to fucking hell I could just put out of my mind ... my being blocked for months on someone's MSN despite the fact that they'll talk to me in a chatroom as though nothing were wrong, when they know that I know that they have me blocked, and I sort of want to scream out "WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO?", but then of course they'd just stop talking to me altogether and I'd have nothing. I shouldn't want to talk to someone who's being so horrible to me, but they matter too much to me and fucking hell ... I want to just forget about it all.
Then someone told me I was "so American", for what I thought was a really silly reason, and I went ballistic. But seriously, it was awful. They proceeded to describe me as being the epitome of what I despise about American culture, and wouldn't listen to my explanation for why this was not the case. Maybe I was being a baby, but it's a sore spot of mine, I suppose. No, of course I don't have a problem with Americans per se, I just object to being described as being a reality-TV-watching drama-hungry slave to cheap American entertainment. And besides, being called "so American" by a Brit is never EVER (or very rarely) intended as anything other than an insult. So I went offline in a huff (well, I had things to do anyway, so I thought I might as well look like a drama queen on my way out), and I'm not sure if he'll ever talk to me again because I went all batty on him, and I love him most of the time and I hope he does talk to me .. but goddamn it ... there's no way he didn't know that saying that would upset me terribly, is there?
And then .. well I should tell you briefly first that a few days back there was a cat meowing very insistently at our back door one night after I'd cooked fish (I think he could smell it). I petted him a bit and gave him a small piece of fish, and then went inside because I'm quite allergic to cats. The cat stayed outside our door for a good hour or so after that, and I wished I could let him in, but I figured he was just an outdoor cat or whatever, and my mom told me not to worry about it, so I didn't.
So anyway, today on my way home from the grocery store I saw a poster for two missing cats named Buttons and Bowes, with photos. Turns out Bowes was the cat that had been meowing outside my door. Goddamnit. I was afraid of something like that. I really hope he wasn't missing at the time I saw him. And how shitty would that be, losing both of your cats at once? Blah. So my mood sank lower yet.
Then James was over and we were making dinner, and we set the frying pan heat too high, and some hot oil splattered out and burned a bit of my hand and chest, and I instantly burst into tears like a giant hysterical baby. I don't think it was over being burned, I think it was just the shock of it all that opened the "I've had a crappy day and I want my mommy" floodgates. So I cried for a bit and then I felt a little better, what with the tears releasing the depression chemicals or whatever it is they do that makes people feel better that I read about.
Normally I only get this way when I'm PMSing, but it's the wrong time of month for that, so I guess I'm just a simpering feeb.
Well, tomorrow is a new day. Here's hoping it's pleasant and outburst-free.
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