A Mean Case of the Reds

Remember in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" when Holly Golightly says that she has a mean case of the reds rather than the blues? Because its more anger than sadness. Anger equals red. Fiery pulsing veins. Bubbling hot lava in my very depths. Yes, sometimes I feel a bit like that.
It's almost 11am and I am sitting watching "Penelope." If you haven't seen this movie yet, you're an idiot. It's one of those movies I can watch over and over again. It might have something to do with the fact that James McAvoy's in it. Hmm, maybe. I should probably get up and pack. I'm moving today. From Ballard back to Queen Anne. And I should wash my face and put on a bra. Yeah, I should.
I went to bed last night a dull blue-gray color. But I woke up a reddish-orange. You know, maybe the shade of my hair. I mean, that's who I really am. Maybe my true aura is that exact color. Anyway so I slept in and woke up to sunlight streaming through the window shades and I decided to listen to "Home Life" by John Mayer because that's what I want. Comfort and security and stability. Is that too much to ask for?
Also, I would love for a man to refer to me as "Red" like Cary Grant calls Katherine Hepburn in "The Philadelphia Story."
Katherine: Only for the moment, I'm not interested in myself.
Cary: Not interested in yourself, Red, you're fascinated. You're far and away your favorite person in the world.