robglazebrook.com

The party was, at best, and underwhelming success. A success, in that beer was available, people drank said beer, and those who were at the party seemed to enjoy themselves (save yours truly, who was not enjoying himself much at all, but that is another story). Underwhelming, in that the party never attracted more than maybe ten people at any given time, despite the fact that I personally invited a couple dozen individuals. In order to save whatever tattered shreds of ego I may have left lying forgotten in a corner somewhere, I’ll assume that most people stayed in due to the monstrous storms that rolled through Iowa from Saturday afternoon until last evening. I mean, nearly a quarter of the state (24 of 99 counties) has been declared a disaster area. That’s gotta be discouraging to party-goers, right?

I stayed sober through the entire party, in part because I was on-call for my job and I answer technical questions better sober, and also in part because I was in a horrible mood and didn’t want to further complicate my emotional state with alcohol. As such, I felt fairly out of place with my surroundings. That is, surrounded by drunks. *g* Drunks tend to get on my nerves even when I’m one of them, and doubly so otherwise.

As you can probably tell by my tone, I’m still in a bad mood. Sorry about that. I’ve been in a consistently shitty mood since Saturday afternoon. I get brief breaks from it, of course. I enjoyed myself playing racquetball with Sammie yesterday afternoon, and I had a decent time watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour on DVD with my roommates last night. But other than those occasional reprives, I’m spending most of my time off by myself, festering in my own anger. Yah. Aren’t I just a bowl of freakin’ sunshine today? *g*

But don’t worry: You’re probably not the cause of my anger. Unless, of course, you are. But you who are (and you know who you are), know you are. Are you they who know?

Well, at least I made myself smile by reading that last bit aloud. *g*