I was in a simmering, groany, unpleasant mood last night.
Wandering through the Rideau Centre, trying to waste time before meeting my friend for a beer, I called my Better Half to bitch. He is so patient. He just listened to me whine about being tired and hungry and royally pissed off. I honestly sounded like a three-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. He kindly suggested that I go grab a bite to eat so that I don't get even more upset before meeting my friend. Funny, it's a simple suggestion, but I was too exhausted to think of it myself. I ate, and felt instantly better. The beer helped too.
I think I might be in a worse mood today, but that has less to do with food and more to do with those gigs falling through. The fact that I was worried about them at all should have tipped me off to the fact that they weren't going to work out. It's probably a blessing in disguise, considering how much last-minute work I would have had to do to get ready for them... But still. Can't help but be a little bummed. Onwards and upwards.
This weekend should help lift me out of my funk. It's my sweetheart's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!), and I plan to spoil him rotten. He hates being spoiled. He also hates doing anything for his birthday. I'm not really much different, so I can understand, but at least we agree on one thing: There must be cake. Lots and lots of cake. And maybe a drunken practice round on the new drum kit? No? Okay. I'll do it sober.