Just plain wrath
Generally I like people, but when I get into an empty elevator, I'll still jam on the close button before anyone else can get in.
I am beautiful in the silvered arch of a spoon, when my face is distorted into indistinct topsy-turvy curves, and I have an excuse for my unassuming features. To be blurred is to be possibly beautiful, which is infinitely better than definitely hideous, which is an improvement on all my current misgivings.
Also, I got the acerbic "you're not fat, you're just big boned" observation today, on a day where already I'd happily lob small furry innocents into large mirrors to avoid my reflection. Shut up. I hope you burn, along with all those little fluffy creatures, and my sense of self-esteem.
On a happier note, my flight leaves today :)