I'm Just Bothered

I'm moody and tempestuous, which is kind of average for me. There isn't even some kind of mental condition I can blame. It's mostly just being a cranky bitch, because the sun is too bright, and I feel weirdly anxious and kind of bored while not caring to DO anything about it. I should write, since my book is my one true love, but my book won't take me for ice cream topped with gummy bears, even though I'm WAY past the age where that's considered acceptable. I just really like gummy bears, especially when they're cold.

I suppose my ennui comes from being mildly upset of things that are decidedly NOT my business. The kind of vague feeling that lives in the background and has no name. The only way I can describe it is, "Well, this just sucks." Because if you're pissy about things that aren't your business, you can't get indignant or properly furious, because you're the one with the problem. And you don't even realize you're upset until you start getting annoyed that someone else sounds happier than you are, and you want to ask your mom if she's too busy with her boyfriend REDBOX to return your calls and then you realize that YOUR boyfriend is a book that you aren't even writing so fuck everything. This is all because I am an ARTIST and a CREATIVE INDIVIDUAL and I FEEL so MUCH and [insert more whiny bullshit here].