Last week I alluded to how I have been dragging about. I thought I was a little depressed. I had, after all, spent three months working with a computer program that I had named "The Depression Machine." By the end of those not-so-fun days The Depression Machine was taking less and less of my time and naps more and more. I was pretty sure what I needed were Life Goals and Planned Structure and, most importantly, a New Job. And then I slept through a good part of Las Vegas and Miami, which seems like a pretty meaningful commitment to depression to me.
So I saw a doctor, and it turns out I was actually fairly sick. So a week on a psycho-making medication, no sunshine, no chocolate after 2PM because it interacts with the psycho-making medication, no crab dinners (srsly?... same reason) and I'm going to be shipshape shortly.