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I don't know when it happened. It crept in like dust, or the post-collegiate 15lbs, or maybe like the roommate's boyfriend who stays over "but only on the weekend" then the weekend starts beginning on Thursday, then Wednesday, then one day you find his boxers mixed in with your laundry. However it happened...it did.

What am I talking about?

My horrible-lousy-bad-no-good attitude. I don't know when it happened, but I'll be damned if it's going to stay. I need a restart button.

This has been a great weekend. I got tons, and I mean tons done. I processed somewhere around 100 plastic bags into sheets of upcycled plastic for wallets, I started a website for one of the markets I am participating in this holiday season. I even sent out emails to local shops to get them to carry my work (one replied yes within 12 hours!) and I had 2 sales on etsy. This should have been an awesome, bad-ass, party down weekend. But somehow it was ruined as soon as I got up and left the house today.

The metric butt-load of bags awesome people have sent me to make into wallets :)

I had (by most accounts) a good day at work. I met with a designer about the next show I am working on. She is lovely. Her designs are clear and beautiful and will be fun to build....but somehow between 5pm when the meeting ended and I got home at 7:30-today went to crap.

It started, or rather ended, with a slice thru my finger with a fresh x-acto blade. Not bad enough to need stitches, but bad enough to hurt like heck, bleed like crazy, and send me home without finishing my project. Oh, and why did I slice my finger? Oh yeah, because I was preoccupied with how I just knew this week was going to be a let down after the weekend. (If that's not a PSA for shop safety I don't know what is) So I packed up and left for home. I got on the train....and it was broken. Yup. Broken. Simply-broken. We sat halfway in a tunnel for 30 minutes, when it reached the platform and I got off, it broke again. Instead of waiting for someone to get out and push, I walked to my transfer station about a mile away.

Proof the United States was founded by dudes

The walk was lovely. I walked past the national mall on a clear cold night. I should have been reveling in the beauty of our nation's front lawn...but instead all I could think about was that this was going to be a long week, and my flippin' finger hurt-WTF??! I couldn't even take a moment of joy feeling with every ounce of my being that soon Barack Obama will be the president of the United States (I'm gonna go work for him this weekend to be sure).

Our Nation's front lawn

I got home, my roommate asked how my day was, and it took most of what I had left to not burst out in tears. If I didn't know better I would blame it on PMS, or seasonal affective disorder, or depression, or some other perfectly good explanation....but that would be too easy, and a total lie. In reality- things here in our nations capitol haven't gone how I wanted them to go, and I'm getting caught up in wishing it was something else. I'm not sure how, but I need to find someway to make my time here more than just a stop-over in my life. I need a new way to look at it all. I need a restart button. I need a reboot. Or at least a good defragmenting.

Or maybe just a swift kick in the pants. As a friend in Hartford used to say to me.... Do I need to slap you upside your head? Or are you gonna do it yourself?

I'm working on it.