The Wrong Side Of The Bed

If there were a world contest for grumpy, I would win gold today. Or whiny, for that matter. I probably could have edged out most of the field last night, but by 7 a.m. today I was unstoppable.

Not entirely without cause, considering:

• I still can't eat without feeling mildly nauseous. (Food poisoning, Monday night)
  
• I'm short on sleep
  
• I have grown out of all my pants and am overweight and therefore ill-attired.
  
• I still haven't gotten my antidepressants renewed
  
• I have four papers due in the next week, only two of which I have started (one is mostly done.)
  
• I opened my fat mouth in my econ class this morning and said something politically inadvisable about a professor
  
• I opened my fat mouth in econ this morning and gave an opinion backed by insufficient research which was summarily shot down
  
• I got my master's project proposal (which I had felt okay about!) back from my advisor with the following email: "The proposal is back in your box. Go back to the first 2 steps of Bardach to get a specific research question or questions."
  
• My dogs bark and whine and wake me up in the middle of the night.

Of course, to balance my evil mood and the inevitable pissing and moaning, I must also note:

• I am not on fire.
  
• I am going to be able to change the grading basis for my quant class
  
• I got a good grade on my last major paper(s).
  
• My sweetie loves me and brings me cookies and is nice to me when I am sick.
  
• I am done with two out of five classes.
  
• I found a good, loving home for my extra spaniel.
  
• I am one priviledged white upper-class spoiled brat.
  
• I have more friends than time (certainly not the same ratio as the past four years!)
  
• I get to spend the holidays with my fabulous family.

Okay, maybe I feel better. I still reserve the right to snarl and snap. Just because.