crying foul

not sure if it's a combo of p-m-s, a-d-d, hunger and under-rest but i'm in a mood to growl. packing's not done. you always forget about little things like power cords and magnets (and i'm not even at the stage yet where those bits are getting thrown together). falling in love is not done. did i even brush my teeth today? i can't remember. i did, i'm sure, but that's the spirit of this monday and there's so much to do besides all that (there's work, for instance, the kind that pays my rent) and feeding myself and buying new undergarments cause all mine are all old and ratty and last night i had the choppiest night's sleep, with images of my new, professor-like dentist in it and an editor i used to work with who told me, in the dream, he'd just come from his lunchtime crochet group (and he pronounced it with a hard 't') and that now he had three children. i just want a bowl of chicken noodle soup and to go to sleep under a warm blanket with rain hitting my window and the feeling that i have no obligations for weeks and weeks.