If you don't have anything nice to say, come sit next to me!

That line is just about the only thing I found palatable in Steel Magnolias. Today it suits my mood. I feel like a bitch. A complete and utter bitch. Not because of anything I've done recently, although certainly I've repeatedly had to stifle the urge to hurl myself at various morons and prevent myself from angrily gnawing their flesh apart with my teeth, or at least resist my desire to give them a sound dressing-down. No, I feel like a bitch because I have let myself get run-down and the universe is apparently out to get me. I know, it's so boring to read people's complaints, but c'mon, it's me! We're friends, right?

So here's what's bugging me. I have an inner ear infection. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be 35 years old and have to call work to take the day off for an ear infection? Because, you know, I'm really four. I should have just told them I had lice, and then they wouldn't want me there for the whole week. Anyways, it's making me feel dizzier than usual and everything is muffled and I can't quite decide if this is what makes me feel like I've gone crazy, or if I really have gone crazy. I mean, honestly, how many crazy people are actually that self-aware?

What's worse though is that I wrote a ten page essay while feeling like this, and though I'm prone to self-criticism, I am almost certain that I just handed my professor a piece of what the French call "ordures." I don't know how I'll be able to hold my head up in class, given that I'm embarrassed and dizzy and one side of my head is heavier and about to start oozing something nasty.

To top it all off, despite my current state of crappiness, I decided to press on and attend my mid-term exam for my Gay Lit class this afternoon. I was on fire, whipping through a fabulous essay about performative behaviour and how society's rules do not apply to a culture forced to invent itself due to its rejection from the mainstream (or something like that) and my cell-phone rings. My emergency cell-phone, which NEVER rings, because generally, there are never emergencies. It was my son's old kindergarten. Not my favourite place in the world, by the way, since I think the Principal is a condescending cow, but guess who it was on the phone?! Seems that my little angel decided to bolt from his babysitter, and he grabbed his skateboard--sans helmet--and rode on down to his old school to have a little pow-wow with his old pals. The babysitter was in hysterics, the kindergarten wouldn't release my son to him because they didn't know him, and only I would be allowed to get the kid. So, I apologized profusely to the professor and left. And now the exam which should be behind me is still in front of me.

Merde.