whee

After lunch today, I was sure I wouldn't need to eat any dinner. But now I'm snacking away, and it's probably best for me to eat a square meal.

I've rather gotten out of the habit of writing every day. Sigh.

. . .

I hate being depressed. There's (seemingly?) no logical reason. I should pick up that recent bestseller by Andrew Solomon or whatever about depression. I vacillate between feeling that my moments of depression are merely fleeting -- not really what would be diagnosed as clinical depression -- and feeling that I do suffer from a deep-seated sort of depression. Back in college, the psychiatrist recommended an anti-depressant. I tried it briefly -- not long enough for it really to start working -- but then I felt like it would put me out of touch with my emotions, something I was working hard to feel and understand better.

I wish there were a restaurant around here that didn't have a menu, that served whatever the chef (or chefs) felt like making each night. I could go in and would just eat what was being served that night. Like being at home. No choice.

?

Why isn't anyone on AIM? Rob is switching over to a mostly-day-schedule at his job starting next week. Yay!