Danger, Will Robinson.

I'm in the foulest, crappiest mood I've been in in quite a while. Depressed and lonely and weepy with a side-order of mean-as-hell/spoiling-for-a-fight. Some part of it is biochemical, I'm almost certain, some part is post-event crash, some part is that I'm tired and stressed. And a big heaping helping is that lunatickle, fabulousmisst and their moving van pull out Saturday for DC.

Please don't try to cheer me up right now; I don't seem to be capable of taking even the most well-intended advice graciously at the moment.

This workday cannot be over soon enough.