I hate sanguines. Seriously, I do. There’s always so fucking bubbly and excitable. What’s there to be so happy about? And what makes you think your spirit is contagious? Now me, on the other hand, I am contagious. Especially when I’m in a mood like today. And what mood is that? Well, bat-shit crazy for no reason at all. At least, no reason that I can easily identify. And man does this mood suck. If I had a coven and a chainsaw … well, let’s just say it’s good that I don’t have either. And no, it’s not PMS.

I’ve been in this mood for two days now. And because I’m contagious, I prefer to hide out in a cubby hole and wait until it passes, which it will. But nooooo. I have to do normal things. Like talk to people, and cross roads, and go to work. When I’m in a mood like this, I half hope the world can tell, that they can see my cloud from miles away and back the fuck off.

But they can’t. So I eat chocolate. And I fume. And I blog. And I tweet. And I try to get through the day without killing anybody. Unfortunately, this day is not particularly kind. My mood has turned my mind blank. Absolutely blank. And the briefs are piling up. So in moments between staring at an image and wishing for the words to write themselves, I kick and I scream and I curse, but always on the inside.

And my workmates, well, they have to bear the brunt. They only see my angry little tweets, because they cannot hear the words inside my head, or the many painful ways I’m trying to hurt them. And it all goes great. Until it catches. Then suddenly my timeline is alive with nasty subtweets, and I want to just walk over to their desks and yell fuck you!

But I can’t, because we’re feeding off each other, and right now, the workspace is about to explode. The anger levels are frighteningly high and I’m wondering what’s the worst that could happen if I threw this dumb machine off the balcony and just went home. I can do that, right? Creatives do shit like that all the time. But I’d probably get fired. Or sued. Or worse. Wait. What’s worse than being fired or sued?

I suppose I could collapse into a zen space. It’s what the smart, mature person would do. But I don’t feel like being very smart or mature. I feel irrational and angry. I would like to build a gang of mutant effigies, and stick red hot pins inside their navels. Then blindfold them and shoot them full of blanks until they’re dead. In the meantime, chocolate and angry rock will have to do.

♫ Don’t stay ♫ Linkin park ♫