The demons are back.
The little winged purple bastards are back, if only for a little while. They sit on my shoulders and perch on my head whispering evil things to me, strumming the invisible strings connected to by brain. Their names are Irritability, Anger, Irrationality, Moodiness… and Heartburn, oddly enough.
I am in no mood for bullshit today, and I’m doing my damnedest to not lop anyone’s head off for no reason – for the most part, they really don’t deserve it. I feel like a raw nerve being prodded by a dentist’s pick and it’s getting harder by the minute to be even a tiny bit congenial.
I don’t want to be crowded, chided, babied or concerned about. If another motherfucker listens in on my phone conversations and doesn’t have the good sense and manners just to keep the fuck quiet, instead of waiting for me to hang up and clue me in that they were eavesdropping by commenting on the fact that it sounds like I’m in a crappy mood and having a bad day, I’m going to unmercifully bludgeon them into a bloody shattered mass of loosely connected tissue and bone shards.
I woke up this morning in this mode and I have no rational explanation for why. That doesn’t make the fact that I’m in it any easier to deal with, and it doesn’t make the world piss me off any less. More than likely I’ll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed come morning, but all I care about is the here-and-now.
The repetitive, obtuse tasks I’ve been engaged in all day have left me with too much time to think. My co-workers have taken the available opportunities to engage in a little good-natured ribbing which otherwise I would have reveled in, but only brought me closer to a homicidal episode. I was "let off the hook" for a dinner get-together that I was looking forward to, and have interpreted it as a kind and gentle blow-off. My mind’s eye isn’t seeing 20/20 today, so I might be way off base on that one. Fuck it. Don’t care. Throw it on the heap.
If I can make it home without killing anyone, it’ll be a miracle.
FUCK! Heartburn.