For the past week, as I alluded to in entries of yore, I have been cranky as hell, convinced that nobody loves me, and doing my best to consume my body weight in chocolate. Short fuse? I have been entirely fuseless. I've never been so happy to get my period in my life, cramps and headaches notwithstanding.

Except now, I have the period retardation to end all period retardations.

I went out with this guy last night, a first date no less, and behaved like a total spaz. I missed the freeway on the way to his house, I had to call him three times to get directions, I couldn't figure out how to park my car, and then I dumped the contents of my lunchbox (which I carry as a purse) all over the sidewalk. Hello, new boy. See how socially graceful I am? Please, date me some more!

Tonight at work, I did a lot of stupid things. We had no customers, but we were still late in leaving, mostly because I could not perform even the simplest tasks. For instance, at the end of the night, Dan said, "Hey Mo, we've got all this mocha, should we save it?" and he held up the container of mocha. I looked at it, supposedly pondering the fate of the mocha syrup in a responsible, managerial way. You know what I was thinking, staring at this thing? "Ooh, look at the shiny thing. I can see my head!"

I am not even exaggerating. Dan was all, "Uuh, Mo?" and I realized that's exactly what I had been thinking. My mind was completely blank. He had a very simple question and for the life of me, I couldn't answer it. You couldn't have paid me.

All this, and I went on a job interview today. I had to take a test, even: verbal questions from the SAT. Apparently I did very well (I missed two-- of course, I am bitter about those two) and the interviewer told me that most people miss 4-6 questions. They are also looking for "charismatic" personalities, and I think she and I clicked. I felt charismatic while I was there. She laughed at my jokes; we bonded over grammar pet peeves. That's good, right?

They're hiring more than one person (a whole pool of people, in fact) so my chances are not bad. If I get this job, I will be working between five and 25 hours per week, starting at $17 per hour. Even if the hours are unsteady or what have you, that's a hell of a lot more than what I'm making now. Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?

But anyway. I have renewed energy, but I am now paying for the fact that I haven't had energy for a week. In other words, I am behind. My inbox is overfilling with email, and I cannot seem to dig in and answer it. (Instead I sit and refresh the page, hoping for brand new email instead! Hello, attention span?) My desk is piled with amorphous papers of one kind or another that need filing or, at the very least, glancing at. I haven't been writing. I haven't been cleaning. I haven't been exercising. I've been headachy and dizzy.

It's hard to get back on track. My body is willing, but my mind is in a fugue state, clearly.

The one thing that may not be connected to my hormones at all is my ever-increasing sense of wanderlust. I am dying to take a vacation. I keep changing my mind about where, though. After seeing The Bourne Identity last night, I want to go back to Europe. London! Paris! Florence! Barcelona! Amsterdam! Places I've been, places I haven't been. Anyplace!

I also want to visit my friends around the country. Can some of you invite me to stay with you, please? I will put you on my itinerary if you put me in your guest room. Hey, that could be my slogan! I could make T-shirts! Okay, maybe not.

But really, even staying in the USA, there are so many places I could go. New York and Philly are always on the top of the list-- I've only been to Philadelphia for five minutes. I miss Boston. I would love to go back to D.C. again, now that I think of it. Or how about Hawaii? Megan and I were talking about doing that. Portland! Seattle! And then there's Chicago, the current front runner. Or a cruise to Alaska, which would totally be number one on my list, except that nobody I know wants to go.

Finally, and on a completely unrelated note, something made me so happy tonight that I had to share it with you guys. A new store just opened up down the street from me, and you know what it's called? "Brother's Gold Teeth." A whole store just to sell gold teeth! That is the best store EVER. I want to go in there sometime on a pilgrimage, just to see what they have in their display cabinets and on their walls.

Not that I'm in the market. I think gold teeth look hideous, and I can't imagine enough people wanting them that a whole store would open just for that. But there's a huge black population where I live, and the gold teeth thing is clearly a part of black culture. I'm thinking there might be some cultural significance I'm missing, what with the whole not being black and all.

Still, "Brother's Gold Teeth." Hee! I may not quite get it, but I love it.

They had an open bar all night (oh, man) and they gave us no warning when the boat was about to dock. It was like, drink! Drink more! Now drink more! Now get drunk! Now we're kicking you off the boat! Now--- wait, what?