"Baaaaad Week!" said the sheep.

I’m having a bad week*. I feel out of control. I’m just so sad, and not for any reason in particular. Oh, and that also means I’m edgy and seething with rage. You know, for no reason whatsoever. I really should have some sort of warning hanging around my neck:

Beware. May Spontaneously Combust, and You Might Get Some On You.

Or:

Do Not Feed. Will Bite. And Butt Will Grow So Large** Its Gravitational Pull Will Drag You Right Into…Well, You Don’t Want to BE There, Trust Us.†

Or:

Insert Prozac Into Slot Mouth.††

So I’ve basically crawled into a hole and am trying to stay in here until it wears off. So sorry if I haven’t—and won’t—be coming by your blog for a bit. I will. But only after I feel a little more…or, rather, a little less…spiky?

This does NOT interrupt contests, by the way. If you're interested in that sort of thing. And my mood rollercoastering does not stop the advent of Halloween:

*Maybe quite a bit longer than that, really, but this week has been worse.

**Serious about this one. You know how I joined a gym recently, and I’ve been going regularly for a month or so now? Guess what? I’ve actually gained weight since going to the gym. Something doesn’t add up here. Or rather, it’s adding up too well and far too fast. What is this? I hit my thirties and my metabolism just gives up on me? COMPLETELY? $#@!&%$‡

†"Us" = Committee for More Explicit Signs. They are mostly trustworthy, but somewhat long-winded.

††The biggest reason I'm where I am right now is 'cause my prescription ran out just after the move--whoops!--and as soon as I sorted out all our new insurance info, I called up the doctor to make an appointment, and the soonest they could get me in was in TWO MONTHS. The good thing about that is that the two months is up next week--or is it the week after? The bad news is that Jeff and Jake have had to live with me like this for too long now, and I think they're considering moving out. Or doing me in. Or at least putting me in a cage in the back room somewhere, but then who would clean the toilets?

‡If you translated this swear out of its censored form and back into English, it would read “Swarthy Mother of Biscuits! Crunch-Worthy!!!” ...just in case you ever wondered what I was trying to hide behind all those ampersands and exclamation points.