and now for something completely different
I thought I was having a good night -- I left work only an hour late, got home, went for a swim, ate dinner, and did an hour's-worth of cleaning up in my bedroom; the floor's clear of traveling suitcases & clothes & shit. That's good.
Then 20 mins ago I just started crying, and there aren't any reasons for it that aren't imaginary.
It's also hotter than fuck and I'm so uncomfortable in my bed. And I'm still crying.
I even had a reasonable day at work. I got two list-things done - one off yesterday's list, one off today's - and a lot of non-list things done. And I left at 5:30 which is only an hour late.
I don't even know, I don't even know.
Might sleep on the couch. It's just fucking gross up here.
Edit-- then I went downstairs to set up on the couch and I went to steal the pillow & blanket I usually use in the hammock off of Gramma's couch and I just - I looked at Gramma's couch and remembered her house is sold, their house is sold. Grandpa's been gone for 10 years and Gramma's never coming home again.
It's just so fucking stupid. So fucking dumb. What is crying going to help? It isn't efficient. It's an irrelevant process.
The thing I hate most about (my) depression is this sudden shit. I can feel like a productive bitch mode amazon all day but then suddenly there's just a storm of tears.
This entry was originally posted at http://seventhe.dreamwidth.org/364336.html, which has
comments. Comment there (with OpenID) or here, it's all good.
Then 20 mins ago I just started crying, and there aren't any reasons for it that aren't imaginary.
It's also hotter than fuck and I'm so uncomfortable in my bed. And I'm still crying.
I even had a reasonable day at work. I got two list-things done - one off yesterday's list, one off today's - and a lot of non-list things done. And I left at 5:30 which is only an hour late.
I don't even know, I don't even know.
Might sleep on the couch. It's just fucking gross up here.
Edit-- then I went downstairs to set up on the couch and I went to steal the pillow & blanket I usually use in the hammock off of Gramma's couch and I just - I looked at Gramma's couch and remembered her house is sold, their house is sold. Grandpa's been gone for 10 years and Gramma's never coming home again.
It's just so fucking stupid. So fucking dumb. What is crying going to help? It isn't efficient. It's an irrelevant process.
The thing I hate most about (my) depression is this sudden shit. I can feel like a productive bitch mode amazon all day but then suddenly there's just a storm of tears.
This entry was originally posted at http://seventhe.dreamwidth.org/364336.html, which has
comments. Comment there (with OpenID) or here, it's all good.