Grand Fubar

A friend of mine posted on Live Journal the other day about some huge conflagration of heavenly bodies in some astrological hooha known as the Grand Cross. Planets are at right angles, stars and constellations are trined and plaited and goddess only knows what up there to cause some sort of weirdness with the Universe.  You know, if you go in for all that.

Makes me wonder, though. Another friend of mine has been having a rash of klutziness...breaking things, cutting herself, putting things on wrong, etc. and today I'm about to go postal on the next poor slob who asks me anything.

Part of it is the move. I've just HAD it...up to here *indicates a foot over head*. Everyone seems to think I'm this grand, walking font of knowledge and that I can solve all sorts of problems and have limitless strength and patience, and worse, that I give a flying foo about those problems in the first place.

None of that is true. Yes, I know some things, yes, I put up with a HELLUVA lot before I break, but it's not limitless. I spent 15 minutes in the loo crying, throwing things, and talking to myself like Gollum this afternoon...I'm hoping once the push to get everything put away, organized, and neatened, and the beginning of the semester will ameliorate some of my hypersensitivity to bullshit. Probably not. Maybe the Grand Fubar will shift enough and I'll start spouting poetry and painting things pink.

Aaahhh...better I should go postal on your ass.