In some ways I am very like Holly Golightly.

You know when you just wake up scowling? Glaring. Spitting venom.

Yeah, that was me today.

I opened my eyes and just thought "FUCK". Like that, in capitals and everything. I got out of bed, furiously. Showered with acid-like wrath pouring from my eyeballs. Got dressed bitterly cursing. And THEN started the commute.

Because, if you're in an irrationally bad mood, the BEST thing to do is stand on a train platform with a million and one people waiting to be told that your train is delayed and that you will have to sweat it out on a packed train with your face in a fat man's armpit.

Thing is, right, there is no reason for my bad mood. I have had a nice weekend. Friday night I went out and got pissed and had fun. There was dancing, there was beer, there was fun. Saturday night I went to Jenny's house and watched films and chilled with her. Sunday my sister came over. There was cake.

Actually herein lies the problem, I think.

The key words: Beer. Cake. Films (with an obligatory side of crisps).

I am now On A Diet. Meaning? I will continue as I am, more or less, but give myself a REALLY hard time about the fact that I can no longer fit properly into a pair of jeans I don't like anyway. Thing is, my sister (who came over yesterday) is teeny-tiny. A completely different body shape to me. She's small, and fragile and skinny. I am taller and not fragile looking, and am well endowed in the chesticular department. Not fat, but fatter than my Mum and sisters. I think I am too competitive, too proud, and I HATE that I feel fat when I'm around my family. It's RIDICULOUS. Of all people it should be your family around whom you feel the most relaxed and accepted, and I know that they don't care about how I look compared to them. I do, though.

I think I've recently come to the conclusion that it is my pride that causes me the most problems in my interactions with people and my attitude towards myself. Pride is destructive, I think. I hold grudges, I resent myself for 'letting' things happen to me, I HATE making mistakes and have to force myself to take criticism. In some ways I like this part of me. It reflects my determination about stuff (like constructing decent sentences, perhaps?).
What it does not do, however, is allow me to be a forgiving person. I wish that I could be. I wish that I could forgive people who have hurt me, but I can't and I don't know why. I wish that I could wake up one morning, not fit into a pair of jeans and resolve simply to do a little more exercise and not drink as much, but I can't do this unless it's accompanied by a large helping of self-loathing and introspection. And, as you can see, pointless and boring self-analysis.

Anyway. So I think my mood is diffusing a little bit.

I don't usually get bad moods. I get depressed, but rarely feel that poisonous anger that signifies a 'stay the fuck away from me because eating you whole? WOULD TOTALLY CHEER ME UP' day.

What are you like? Probably everyone is as hard on themselves as I am on myself.

I have a busy week this week. I have a rehearsal tonight, I have arranged to meet five different people for a drink, even though I only have three nights spare. Because I have another gig on Friday. Which is good, because I like being busy.

Just as soon as I shake these mean reds I will be able to get on with it. Any tips?