Rethinking the moody bitch

Before our regularly scheduled rant, I have to report that today is not going well. I was caught in a downpour between the MAX stop and school and I walked into my geology test drenched and dripping water everywhere. Then I completely bombed the test. Really, it will be a fucking miracle if I end up with a passing grade. I have another geology test, this time in the lab section, this afternoon. I'd have studied for the next one more, but I left my fucking lab notebook in the fucking lab this weekend. Woofuckinhoo. Oh and what the fuck is going on with my page layout? It doesn't look like this on my desktop! How long has this been going on? Grr!

Ok, the official rant:

As I mentioned in a previous post, I'm a moody bitch. I've generally attributed this to being a woman and just a little more oversensitive to the fluctuations than most. However, this weekend while I was hanging out with the family, I realized that my dad (well known for being grumpy. in fact, his moods are almost legendary) has the exact same mood swing patterns. I'll take an exerpt from the previously mentioned post to demonstrate how I descend into grumpiness:

Today started off well enough. I was cheerful, even. I made tea, instead of coffee and somehow found this amusing. Perhaps that should have been a sign. When the mood goes up, it must go down. I put on my desert camo pants, feeling special that I'm wearing pants that I wore in Afghanistan and that no one on campus today could say the same. I decided to wear my Chucks, which were bought prior to Nike's takeover of Converse and thus the last pair I will ever own. They only get busted out on particularly happy days.

So I'm sitting in class. Once again, this is archaeology, a subject I enjoy with the added benefit of a hot guy in the room. I get my window seat and settle in to admiring the blue, clear sky.

All of the sudden... I convince myself that I've failed the test we took last week. My pants make me look fat. These shoes look dumb and they hurt my feet. How dare it be sunny! How dare it! I wish it wasn't so cold out. God, it's fucking ROASTING in here! If that girl asks one more know-it-all question I will strangle her. Or at least throw my leaky pen at the back of her head. Why did I even come today? I hate this class.

I even had attitude in my notes. After the prof explained why the Fertile Crescent was the perfect place for agriculture to sprout (har!) up, I wrote: "So the Fertile Crescent is fertile. Who knew!"

Dad was cheery in the morning, teasing the dog, making jokes, etc. All of the sudden at the soccer field the atmosphere darkened. You could actually feel all of the energy being sucked out of the area. He turned and started asking angry, snotty questions about unimportant things (not directed at me, luckily for all involved). I was amazed; we're exactly alike.

Simply finding a cause of my moodiness, however, doesn't really make it any better. This just means that I'm grumpy naturally, and IN ADDITION, I'm hormonal and bitchy. Fuck.

Snarls and such.