Man, I just can't shake this "pissed off" feeling. Despite all this wonderful shit in my life right now, I have been the crankiest bitch all week. I've come very close to keying a few cars in small fits of rage, unbeknownst to the objects of my arbitrary little outbursts.

Just a funky week, I guess, we all have them, right? I had a great night with my sister Jen, she came over with dinner for me and M.s. We ate the tasty meal while watching Chicago on DVD. I wasn't cranky then.

Today I watched my baby niece while Jane got her hair cut. Fun to catch up, fun to watch that little fact, but my mind was racing with shit I gotta do. Two stores to hit up, meet Mom to help her pick out some glasses, stop off and feed the girls, write, write, write. I have like, FOUR articles I need to write by next week. The deadlines are self-inflicted, but if I want to be ahead of the game before I escape for a weekend to a party in New York, and then for three weeks across New England, my shit had better be together.

I'm just so GOOD at procrastinating! Do you know how many phone calls I've made in the last two days? How many minutes I've racked up on my phone? Ridiculous. How many near-invisible hairs I have tweezed from my face? How many times I check my email a day? Absurd.

I'll get back into my groove. I mean, hell, I'm kind of in one, and so far, no big bumps. My editors all rock, my friends are supportive and encouraging, as is my family. M.s. is in crunch time to finish his fourth new image for his opening in the Vineyard. We're both so busy, there's hardly any time for playing, and by playing, I don't mean going to the park. I mean breaking out the toys and letting loose in the dirtiest sort of way. No time, too busy, too much stress, too much on the mind, can't stop the pace, need to do MORE.

Tomorrow night it's party for the birthday boy. Saturday it's a house concert I want to cover. Sunday, I leave the country for several hours (just over the border, for another story in progress). Hmm. There IS time. I could be working on my article right now, but I choose to do this. See? And you thought I was kidding when I said I know how to procrastinate.

I have a Koontz book I'm DYING to get into, but responsibility (and the promise of more checks to come) steers me back to the work at hand. Who knew that even with my dream job, one step into my dream life, I could still find things to bitch about and cause me irritation? She's a clever one. I have a feeling next week is going to be a LOT better. We all need some time to pout now and then. I don't have any good reasons to, but I will nonetheless. Just watch me.

-Barbarella

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