Pushing through the ugh.

Not having a particularly good day today. I'm feeling tired and overwhelmed, and I'm almost starting to feel a little sorry for myself - which is never a good thing. Most especially since the reason I'm feeling piteous is my own fault. Few things are more pathetic than feeling sorry for oneself when one has done something wrong and deserves the difficult situation she's in. And so - I'm pushing through it. A variety of things are exacerbating my present state - I'm crampy, I miss my Bird and feel as though I haven't had a chance to mourn her, and my weekend is jam-packed with unavoidable social obligations. Even when I'm flying high, social obligations are difficult for me. When I'm feeling like I want nothing more than to crawl into a cave and shut the door behind me? They're nigh on impossible. Also, I have a test next Tuesday, for which I have little time to prepare. Whinge, complain, hand-wring - I know. I know! Boring, boring, boring. Moving on. I planted my tiny garden this morning - three peat moss plugs of chamomile, three of oregano, and four of basil. I hope they grow! I also hope that mold doesn't take over their happy home. Given that I work in a veritable sea of mold, the possibility exists that it may gain a foothold (or, more accurately, a mycelia-hold, hardy har har). I think I'll take the remaining seeds home and plant them there. I'm especially excited about the chamomile - such sprightly little flowers! Such pretty, feathery foliage! On to my 150 things: I haven't had the chance to read a book yet, but I will tonight, and since the herb garden is planted, it's time for the next installment. I'm going to go next door and ask another coworker to pick a number.