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Location: Work.
Listening: "Weapon Of Choice" by Fatboy Slim.

Depression about my (often self-imposed) lack of truly free time aside, this past weekend was good. Peter and I were supposed to head up to Northern California to visit his mother, grandmother, and grandmother's boyfriend, but last-minute issues prevented us from doing so. Said issues (combined with the loss of my hat at the theatre we went to see Lord Of The Rings in Thursday night) put me in a very nasty mood Friday. This was alleviated by dinner at the Garden Cafe and then falling asleep lying on the sofa with Peter and watching Godfather Part II, which I need to get around to seeing all the way through some time in the next few days. Saturday started out well, but took a bad turn when I went out to run errands and got pulled over by a bike cop on 2nd Street because of my expired registration. I won't even discuss the absurdity of being pulled over by a man in shorts on a bicycle. So I returned home, again in a nasty mood. Peter took me to drop my rent check off and we drove around Long Beach looking for Grand Theft Auto III for the PS2, but to no avail. We did end up going grocery shopping at Bristol Farms and picked up fresh sausages for dinner Saturday night, chorizo (which I scrambled with eggs for a late lunch Sunday), and corned beef, which I'll likely put on with cabbage for dinner tonight. I also picked up a box of cherry Jell-O, which I know is really awful in every way, but which I had a sudden yearning for--ironically, after stuffing everything else into the fridge, I realized that there was no room for Jell-O. I'll have to wait until we eat our way through some of the other supplies to enjoy wiggly goodness. After shopping, my mood lifted, and we capped the night off with a chunk of The Sopranos: Season II on DVD and The Mummy ("I...am a LIBRARIAN!").

Slept in on Sunday, made some chorizo with eggs and salsa fresca, and played a whole lotta NHL Hockey on PlayStation, cycling through the teams that Peter was playing during the Rangers' season. I eventually reached my limit of playing teams that were not my Penguins and trundled off to put in laundry and try my hand at some Civ III. Many hours later, we settled in to one more episode of Sopranos and then channel-flipping where, to my glee, we found Bram Stoker's Dracula. I tried in vain to explain my affection for the film to Peter and eventually determined that I couldn't subject him to Keanu's British "accent" anymore. It was after 1 AM anyway, so we turned in.

I find myself very moody these days--moreso than usual--and it's confusing me. While one could easily point at my frustration with my job, my apartment, various and sundry little annoyances that pop up every week--these things have been prevalent for a while and I haven't been so easily angered, it seems, as I have been in the past few weeks. I become easily depressed over things that never really concerned me that much before--my lack of a desk to put my books and computer on, the shape my car is in, that my hair isn't growing fast enough. Yeah. Things that, before the last month or so, seemed very trivial. It's hard to tell if I'm simply going through a blue period or if I've just reached the end of my patience with, well, about everything. The former is much preferable to the latter, as there isn't much I can do about the job, apartment, etc. at the moment, and I don't have any desire to be a screaming bitch until things are resolved somewhere in the far future. Peter has done more than his share of trying to pull me out of my recent snits, but I'm starting to feel bad for putting him in the position of cheering me up so often, so I'm trying to find my own way of doing so.

Listening to Fatboy Slim's "Weapon Of Choice" because it's fairly impossible for me to be depressed when doing so. The wonderful video with Christopher Walken aside, it's just an energetic little song that I have to at least bob my head to--and it's hard to be depressed when you look like one of those dogs that people put in the back windows of their cars. Not too sure what it's easy to be at that point, but it's hard to be depressed.