I’m in a Good Mood… Should I be Worried?


I finally have had the time and motivation to read posts from blogs I follow, and comment, and I’m also goofing around on a few FB feeds, and in general I have a big stupid smile on my face.

It feels a bit strange, I haven’t had one of these things on my mug for a while! But, of course, I wouldn’t be me unless I dissected why it is, exactly, that I am in a good mood…

Now, before you go thinking that I’ve turned all sappy and soft and that this is going to be a list of stuff that I’m grateful for – well, it might be. I’m cheerful! It’s rare! But HEY! I’m not soft and sappy so just shut that train of thought down, ok?

Right! Easy one: it’s Friday, and I don’t have to go anywhere until tomorrow night, and I don’t have to go to work for two whole days which means I don’t have to get depressed again until mid-afternoon on Sunday.

Tomorrow I get to go to a housewarming party which I am looking forward to immensely. People I like, a comfortable flat, a greyhound and a kitty to play with, and iDJ doing the tunes! Oh, and home-cooked fooooooood. All-around winner!

The happyish feeling of having caught up, a bit, with what is going on in everyone else’s blogworld. I went away, mentally, for a bit there. I didn’t want to comment or read anything, and I didn’t much feel like changing that situation. I think I’ve staved (stiven? No. But it should be a word) that off for now. I’m glad to be back and interacting again. Hopeful that this carries on.

I made a really, really, bad joke tonight that not even I laughed at. I didn’t laugh because I was amazed at my own brilliance at such short notice. I boggled at my own wit. Someone had to, other than my hubby who didn’t laugh either, but actually clapped. I’m not sure what that means, as he gets the brunt of my fast-thinking humour – unlike this writing kinda humour that requires me to think and spell at the same time.

He said I did a bad job of posting my hilarity on FB, so here’s the long version: he was nattering away about electronics needed for tomorrow night’s housewarming gig, and I was sort of listening but not really understanding much of what he was saying. He talks a lot, and I’m not a DJ. He just needs to say it out loud to get it clear in his head, and I don’t even smile and nod any more… Eventually he lost interest himself in what he was saying and noticed that Lokii was sitting next to my leg and licking himself.

Imagine, if you can, my Irish hubby speaking in a Beavis or Butthead voice: ‘Heh. Lokii’s licking his ass.’

I looked down. Lokii was not licking his ass.

“He’s licking his elbow.”

Small pause.

“Are you telling me you can’t tell his ass from his elbow?”

Drumroll, hi-hat crash, I rock. Thank you, I’ll be here all week!

With a big stupid smile on my face, hopefully.

9 responses »

    • Ha! Now I know my karass from my process, and yet again you blow me away with not only a new word but one invented by Vonnegut. I’m reading The Titans of Mars for the first time ever right now, too. I want to start a band called Pallative Karass. It wouldn’t be popular. It would be prog-rock like Yes and no one likes them nowadays. But that’s okay, the idea of playing music appeals to me, but playing live does not. I’ve become fond of the word pallative via my new job. I should go to bed, I’m rambling even moreso than usual…

Thoughts? Gardening tips? Cocktail recipes? Don't just like and leave, please - I can talk for Ireland and would love to prove it!

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