Bleary and Irritable

Wow, that title really makes you want to read on, doesn't it? You're like, "Oh, yeah, a new post from Cerise - and the title indicates that it'll be one of her whiny, narcissistic posts with shit writing to boot! Reading ON, my friend."

Just kidding. So I woke up after apocalyptic dreams about an alien planet accidentally about to crash into ours, planes falling out of the sky, aliens milling around trying to communicate with us, orange/black sky with roiling end-of-days clouds, and people stuffing themselves on buses because there's a last thing they need to say to their loved ones. Cheerful. Oh, and somehow the planes/buses/spaceships crashing here and there are turning groups of humans into ravenous zombies. [note: perhaps Ramon's and my journey through season 7 of Buffy and the fact that I'm reading "Silence of the Lambs" right before bed are contributing factors...] So, yes, waking up after that and wandering semi-blindly around the apartment and bumping into undone housework (argh) has put me in a right lovely mood. Playing different angry hypothetical life scenarios in my head on the walk to work. I'm SO not telling you about any of those. I want people reading this to think I'm, you know, not crazy all the time.

What was I saying? Right...bleary and irritable. Focus, Cerise. Uh - hey. Hey. What...I'm feeling a lot better. What the hell? I wrote out one of the angry scenarios, read it and laughed, deleted it, and now I'm feeling kind of normal. I'm still not sharing it, though. Sorry...

Cerise

P.S. I stalked into work and turned on U2's War album (and thought about Ash, who will be so very pleased and will, I think, agree that there's a U2 album for every mood) straightaway. It's got the perfect balance of 'fuck this all' and youthful hope for better things. Feeling even better.