Seasonal Affective Disorder can FUCK RIGHT OFF.

"Get out of my hidey-hole or I'll chew up your ankles. See if I won't."

Has anyone else out there ever felt so sluggish, tired, unmotivated, anti-social, achy and irritable that they wondered if they were actually depressed?

I have a list of things I need to be getting on with that are just normal, adult responsibilities, but EVERYTHING, including respiration and movement, just seems like a huge pain in the arse. The truck needs repairs again. (Some friends borrowed it to move and dented it and SPOUSE keeps reminding me to bring it in for an estimate, and then get in in for the repair work...can't work up the energy to care.) In the new job I find I don't work under my own initiative - it's at the beck and call of others' initiative, which gives me the hump. I cringe when the phone rings, or when I hear the 'new e-mail' chime, and the human voice is like a rake across a chalk board. Also, getting reminders in the mail from my doctor about yearly check-ups and mammograms and stuff, which I've been putting off.

No, I don't want to get a fucking mammogram.

I certainly hope turning the clocks back this weekend will help. In fact, I'm SURE a little extra daylight when I'm getting up in the morning wouldn't go amiss. Then...THEN the whining and self-pity will stop. I'm sure of it. Yes.

Now, somebody get me a bowl of soup and a bloody mary, leave it on the doorstep, knock twice gently, and fuck off.

Toot-a-root-ay, mac-doo-tay.

Here's my MadMen yourself result. She does actually look like me, I'm happy to say.

The entire day has been one long, long martini lunch. Only, sadly, without the martinis.

Life's too short for origami.

My plan to get out of jury duty tomorrow is to show up in a "We Finally Nailed the Jesus of Cool" T-shirt, holding a copy of "The Portable Atheist," and then rocking back and forth, humming "The Ballad of the Green Berets." Think it'll work?

It's not that I don't want to do my civic duty, but 8am, on a Friday, two weeks into my new job, with classes underway and a faculty member who is getting tetchy because I've not been able to do anything she's requested all friggin' week long (not my fault - permissions, trainings, and on-line accounts haven't been set up yet)...not a good time to be out.

Plus I have a track record of getting actually 'empanelled,' if that's the word. On trials. On week-long trials. On uninteresting trials. Why is that? I think I look like a guilty, hand-wringing liberal to the defense attorneys, and like an embittered, angry conservative to the prosecution. Tomorrow, however, I'll be a smelly, psychically damaged, indecisive, angrily atheistic bag lady. Which, really,


...nevermind.



PS: I am on Facebook now. It IS the Seventh Sign. But I'll stand by my conviction that "Friend" is NOT a VERB.

SCORE!!!

Look what I pulled out of the trash yesterday! Normally I'm a little embarrassed to pick through trash, but seriously - I saw this as we drove past a neighbor's house coming back from the grocery store and nearly hyperventilated.

All it needed was a once over with a dust rag and some Lemon Pledge. Who throws stuff like this out? Crazy, I say.

Gifted

I have an AMAZING knack for opening my big mouth and making some absolutely harmless comment or joke JUST when the very person least likely to find it funny or most likely to get me in trouble for it is standing right behind me and I didn't know it until after the damage is done.

How do I do it?

Just happened a few minutes ago and now worrying about it has absolutely RUINED an otherwise glorious Friday/payday. Even this stack of 7 brand new books hasn't lightened the mood.

Well, maybe a LITTLE bit.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

That is all.

MEDIC!!!!!!

HA! I fucking KNEW IT!!!

Take that, you slovenly flip-flop wearing hippies and no zoners!

Right - vacation's almost over, and I go back to work on Monday. I am taking this one last opportunity of the summer to pay a visit to the male progenitor - bring him a pizza, watch the ballgame, have a larf.

I'm also going to meet the latest pet additions to the family - my family has a tendency to think we're the only people in the world who can properly care for any needy animal, so anytime we're presented with a homeless little furball, you can count on us to take it in. As a result, between all the siblings, we're up to about 15 cats and at least 6 or 7 dogs. So we have a new collie, a new sheltie and a new kitten, all up in Maine and waiting for me to go absolutely maudlin and squeaky over.

Lastly, Sunday night, I ended up going to the Trashcan Sinatras gig at TT's on my own. Thanks, TT's, by the way, for making the show go so late that anyone not on vacation couldn't swing it. Sunday night is NOT Saturday night - you'd think they'd have one less opening band and let everything start a little earlier... but NOOOO.

EVERYONE who said they were going to go ended up bagging on me. Oh well, I am a big girl and I enjoyed myself no less for being on my own. Brought me back to the days when I turned 21 before my roommates and started going to shows on my own - the whole IDEA behind turning 21 was so I could get into clubs and hear live music. Since I drove, I only had a couple of beers. And the parking garage on Green Street is so cheap - I saved enough booze money that I treated myself to a copy of the new disc and a t-shirt. I win. Here are two blurry pictures from my shitty cell phone - Frank Reader, and John Douglas. Yes, I was that close.

TT the Bear's hasn't changed at all in the years since I left my 20's and part of my liver there.