I've been in a bad mood lately. Most of it is my fault, working myself into this anxiety frenzy that I can't seem to get out of and only see myself spiralling deeper and deeper into. It is the time of the month, but I've never had my hormones flare so badly that it's lasted 4 or 5 days. Usually I'm in a bad mood for a day and that's it. I laugh myself out of it the next day. This week, it's just been awful. I'm miserable and I'm making others around me miserable. Or it could be this earache I've been having since Sunday. It's not that painful but it's annoying. But I feel that's just more symptomatic of my bad mood than the cause of it.
I've been having the Bridget Jones' conversation in my head lately as well. Contemplating a life alone and simply not ever being with anyone. That could very well happen. This rant, about how boys always have it great and that they never have to buy the cow cos they get to drink the milk anyway is drowning my faith in ever meeting, dating or being with someone. It's simply not fair, and we girls have to suck it up anyway because we have that biological clock ticking. It would be nice if our sexual rituals resembled that of a praying mantis. You never have to worry about a long term relationship if you were a praying mantis. The female baits the male, has sex and then eats them after. No more of this Carrie Bradshaw- Bridget Jones syndrome, worrying that you'll never ever find someone long term.
I'm hoping and hoping that my Colin Firth is just waiting, waiting around the corner to be discovered, but of course I'm too logical and cynical for that. I mean, I'm even contemplating auditing my econometrics class, which I took two semesters ago anyway, because (a) I'm bored (b) I should keep up to speed with econometrics anyway (c) I had a crush on my professor two semesters ago, and he's cute. I can smell my desperation a mile away.
I'm hoping that out of all this, I might be able to come up with a Plath-like novel that will at least propel me onto the NY times bestseller list and then I will at least have some millions to spend on a sailboat and maybe put myself through a PhD. Yes, money and shopping never ceases to be therapeutic.