Maybe it's me...?

So what determines a person waking up in a shitful mood? Is there really a possibility that at some point in the night I was bitten on the arse by the grumpy fairy...? Could it be that simple? I can find no other way of explaining how I feel right now.

Yesterday I was on top of the world, and finished off my day of joy by watching a very gruesome, angry, violent movie which sent me to sleep in a haze of happiness. So, what happened in between then, my haze of happiness, and now, my cloud of doom...?

Maybe it was Colin miaowing outside my door, wondering why I wasn't up with the sunset as usual, at roughly 5:30 this morning. Are there kitty calendars that I could purchase, so I can point out to him; "Look Colin, it's Saturday tomorrow. So, how about you sleep in, cos mummy will be." How convenient.

Or perhaps it was the dream I had last night - I won't go into details, for fear of exposing the identity of a certain someone, but it wasn't pleasant. Maybe this dream was exposing inherent fears that I haven't discarded yet - perhaps I'm not completely over this guy? Or perhaps it's the realisation that this is going to be a long old process, and I was naive for thinking that it would only take a week to get rid of the hopeful misery that was my life last weekend.

Alternatively, it's possible that my first thought of the morning, after "Colin shut the fuck up miaowing at my door", is indicative of my fowl mood at present. That was, I remembered what I'm doing tomorrow. The Skydive. Yes, I had a flashing image of my own death, plummeting from the sky at god-awful speeds strapped to the front of some incompetent man with his life in my hands. It's not a pleasant thought - especially when followed by a brief flashing of my life before my eyes and a shock realisation that although I'd be physically strapped to another person, I would effectively be dying alone.

Hmmm, have I made my mood worse? Maybe. And yep, I've got exactly 1.5 hours to kill before my weigh-in for the 12 week challenge this morning, and I can't eat anything or drink too much for fear of adding on weight prior to the scales... Oh! There we have it folks! The source of my bad mood appears to be the disruption of my usual Saturday morning routine of muesli and coffee in front of Rage followed by a stint at the gym with my ipod. Damn - I forget how entrenched I am in a routine. I should really make more effort to adhere to it at all costs. And to think I was beginning to blame myself...