Crabby (yet again)

I know, here we go again. I'm having an off day. It's a crabby, crappy day. A day when I feel like abandoning everything and getting out of here, and going somewhere where no one would ever find me. I've been feeling like crying for the past six hours or so. I feel like going to sleep and waiting for summer to come.

Talked to a couple of friends last night, and everything was fine then. Even with my ever-present insecurities, I was happy. Something in me just snapped today. I feel defeated – by this greyness, by my own inexplicable moodiness, by nothing and everything all at once.

My friends dragged me out to the Finto, my favourite restaurant in town. It's its last night before closing forever. I was home, actually, preparing some bland meal when they came in to convince me to go. But, sitting in the lounge at the Finto, surrounded by six people, I just felt like crumpling to the floor and pretending to be invisible. I adore the people I had supper with, but my mind was so out of focus and scattered.

And why am I feeling this way? What's wrong? Everything (and nothing). A friend is leaving town tomorrow, and I haven't had the chance to say goodbye. The computers in my classroom have all rebelled and decided to stop working. My cat is sick and has been hacking up what is apparently stomach acid. I've been kicking myself for not remembering to call my mother on her birthday. And, after calling her this afternoon, I'm kicking myself for letting her upset me. I've just realized that I'll probably not have another barbecue until next June. I haven't gone kite-flying all year, and now it's too late. I have no Christmas plans. I have been meaning to do something all this past week, but have somehow talked myself out of it because I've been too scared. Boldness and courage, things I have little of at the best of times, have abandoned me, and I, in turn, have abandoned that voice in my head, the one guided by my heart. And that's the worst feeling in the whole world.