I know this is kind of woo-woo, but I’m a big believer in the power, for better or worse, of the energy you put into the universe. I’m not always great at it, but I try to at least start every day with the intention of being as positive and happy as possible. I feel that radiating good vibes really does affect the people around me. Or, at the very least, concentrating on the good rather than focusing on the crappy makes me feel better.

If you don’t believe it’s true, try this: next time someone cuts you off in traffic, flip them off and and yell “COCKSUCKER” at them. Feel that? That’s your blood pressure rising, your face getting hot, your heartbeat quickening. (And possibly, your car being smashed and your face being beaten to a pulp by the big guy from Enumclaw. Be careful about who you flip off, please.) Then, the next time someone does something shitty to you, wave and smile. Can you tell the difference? I promise that the people around you can, too.

Lately though, I’m completely out of sync with the benevolent energies I normally embrace. For instance, as I walked to my car this morning, which was parked across the street from a construction site (yet another Queen Anne condo development, great!), I noticed that a bunch of guys were standing around and I thought to myself, “If one of them even THINKS about making a comment, I’m going to jump out of my fucking skin.” No one said anything, but as I inched my way back and forth trying to remove Pearl from the tiny parking spot she was firmly entrenched in, I looked over and saw one of the workers make a face and mouth “Whoa!” Apparently, he thought I was too close to the car behind me. I looked at him with my bitchiest, don’t-fuck-with-me face and said, “What?!” Then I drove off.

For the next three blocks, I had a heated argument with the guy in my head. “Is that your car behind me? Is that why you’re getting so touchy? Yeah, well maybe next time, you don’t park right on top of my ass, huh?” Stuff like that. I finally snapped out of it and thought to myself, “Jesus, Girl. What is your fucking problem?” This kind of thing has been happening to me a lot over the past couple of weeks.

I’m no earth mother. I don’t walk around thinking, “We are all children of the universe. I love him and her and that lamp post, oh and that guy who just cut me off.” But I don’t normally let myself steep in the sort of animosity stew I’ve been languishing in of late either. I like to think I live in a realm of happy medium. I make an effort to be positive and happy, but I also allow myself moments of feeling bad about myself and the dickheads who sometimes come into my sphere.

So, seriously, what is my fucking problem? I’m mad at everyone right now. I’m on the verge of tears pretty much all the time. I jumped all over GTB yesterday for a fairly innocuous comment he made in an email. I put my ear plugs in at 9:00 last night because I couldn’t think of one person I could possibly have a phone conversation with that wouldn’t send me reeling. Even Gilmore Girls got on my nerves.

Work is stressful and huge changes are coming in other parts of my life. For now, at least, I’m blaming this sense of ickiness on those two things. But I’m wondering if there is just something in the air. Are other people as tense as I am? Could it be that it’s just February in Seattle and we haven’t seen more than a couple of hours of sun since November? Or have the forces of evil, combined with Bush’s State of the Union address last night, set us all in a state of anxiety?

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