crabby jane

I realized that I've had a scowl on my face most of the day.
And that is not like me.
I'm a glass-half-full, every-day-is-a-new-day-kind-of-chick.

I'm still not feeling well and my sleep is all goofed up.
Wednesday evening I fell asleep on the sofa, laptop on my belly at 7:00 pm.
I woke up to thunder at 3:30, took a shower and tried to finish my article.
Dozed off again and woke up in time to dress in a panic and throw my still wet, sticking out seventeen ways hair in to a bun. Of course a guy called and invited me to dinner after work. I looked like an old woman on her way to a funeral.
Black skirt, black sweater, black boots, black necklace.
I often wear black, but this combo was not good.
I got home from dinner and promptly feel asleep with out setting the alarm.
I woke up this morning with two minutes to get ready. I had to skip the shower and pull my now even-crazier hair back in to a bun. Fridays are casual day, so I wore what I thought was cute...until I got to work.
Stripped long socks, Mary Jane shoes, denim skirt and a thrift store sweater--think Pippi Longstocking's crazy aunt.
Then I worked on budgets all day. Budgets. Uggh.
Around 6:00 I remembered that it is "First Friday" and I host a music series as part of an art gallery opening. I had no time to go home and change.
All of the hipsters were there--and me.
To top it all off, a guy that I really like was there...with a date. I felt like Frumpy Jane.

I stopped at a drug store on the way home. It is in a very "urban" neighborhood. I do appreciate how hard it is to do business in those neighborhoods, so I try to support them. But there are some places that a woman wearing knee-socks driving a pick-up truck with 4-H plates carrying a box of tampons shouldn't be after dark.

I got home and Mom called. We had one of those "who's on first" conversations that make you nuts. I'm buying my house from my landlord, which is very exciting. I've set up the inspection and the appraisal and I'm in the market for a mortgage person. Mom and I were discussing that and she kept taking about a Realtor. She kept going on and on that I should not call a Realtor. I kept saying okay--after she said it the tenth time, I said "you realize that Realtors and mortgage brokers are different things." And she started carping about how I should not call a Realtor. I finally said "I'm not going to list the house, so I can buy it."
She said that I don't understand.
I guess I don't.

I was going to take a photo of my lovely outfit, but realized that my camera is at work.

Some friends just called, trying to get me to join them.
I'm too damn crabby and I have work to do.
Pity the musicians I'm about to review!

[scowl]Tomorrow is a new day, right? [/scowl]