CPW Contamination

I'd like to think that I am, for the most part, a Person in a Good Mood. Obviously I slip into fits of depression (or rage) as much as (if not more so) than the next person, but generally they are transient moods, with Cheerful being the Default. That is what I like to think.

Tonight, however, someone has apparently let slip a Cantankerous Plague Weasel into the house, and it's bitten both myself and my mate, resulting in elongated fangs and scowly expressions. Neither of us is angry with the other, per se- we're just angry in general. So we've been sort of orbiting one another like wary little planetoids, doing our best to avoid a collision. (How many more unrelated metaphors and/or similes can I fit into this paragraph?!) And the infection doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Ugh.

I need some CPWeasel-Stomping Boots.

But now I shall strain my crabby brain to the utmost, and try to think of one creative thing. Just one. Just one teensy, weensy story-seed that might later be nurtured into something real...

(While I'm straining, I'd like to say that Nate and I watched Pandorum tonight, and I pretty much had it pegged from the first Encounter...)

Okay, here we go... aaaany minute now...

Damn it, Muse- what do I pay you for?!

(Maybe she got bitten by the CPWs, too...)