PlazaJen: Passion Knit

I like to categorize the different parts of me inside as being run by gnomes. It makes for a fun visualization, and well, I like gnomes. I have very stringent rules about gnomes, for example, their hats must be POINTY. They cannot be CHEERFUL or GAY in the CHEERFUL sense. What they do behind closed doors is their bidness. This does not mean they must have a dour look at all times, but the true gnomes have a seriousness about them, as serious as a 5th grader telling her science teacher, "Ex Post Facto, Mrs. Urlaub, you did NOT catch me with gum a third time, it's only been two times since you made that new rule."

Right now, the gnomes that run the Fun Center, which is where my emotions funnel through, and usually get some semblance of humor or at least a twinge of sarcasm, those gnomes seem to be pissed off and annoyed. They don't fling Happy Powder into the Emotional Stream, as assigned. I imagine they're just standing around, grumbling & grimacing, discussing the possibility of starting a GnomeUnion (the Gnomesters! Who will be their Jimmy Hoffa?). Maybe it's got something to do with the fact that I started the day filled with joyous hope and a newfound appreciation for Springtime, and now?

NOW?

NOW IT'S SNOWING.

All I can say is, "Goddamn."
But you know what? I could be this lady with bad hair wearing a CAT SWEATER on The Wheel. So I can still find that shiny fucking silver lining. And my gnomes had better not unionize. I can plant more than tulip bulbs, y'hear? Y'HEAR?