I'm overly sensitive, easily irritated, and quick to jump down people's throats for things I would normaly count to ten before jumping about.
I get all weepy when certain songs are on.
I've been grinding my teeth alot.
I stubbed my toe tonight. Twice. It's turning a nice shade of black/purple.
I'm grumpy at my sister for no good reason. Well, okay, something here set me off that really shouldn't have, and I let that trickle over.
I actually would have punched that old lady the other day. I've only wanted to seriously physically harm one other person in my life, and that was after 6 months of constant harassment.
Many of my friends are unhappy / scared / needing the love, and I can't find that well of good thoughts that I usually have to tap into for them.
I'm feeling selfish, and I hate that.
I'm feeling like a burden on my parents, and I hate that even more.
Good thought time:
When we moved into this house, we spend the first night on the floor in the living room in sleeping bags. I *THINK* my dad may have lit a fire in the lava rock fireplace, but I'm not sure. Either way, I remember staring up at the ceiling. It's got that 'acoustic' pointy spackle on it, and at the time, it was dappled with gold glitter. I fell asleep staring at the shiney spots on the ceiling... I *MAY* have been twelve at the time. Maybe eleven.
Tonight, as I was lying on the couch with ice on my purple toe, I looked up and saw a glint of gold.
The ceiling has been painted over many many times, but apparently one fleck of glitter has survived. Tonight it winked at me, and for one brief moment I found myself the thoroughly enthralled eleven year old, excited to be somewhere new.
I wish I could be eleven again.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star...