SIcka

Sicka political stupidity.

Sicka people making outrageous accusations about Obama.

Sicka not being able to sleep nights.

Sicka not being whole.

Sicka depression.

A Bad Day

It's a Bad Day

I didn't sleep most of the night.  I saw 4 go by and dropped off sometime after that.  Missed the thunderstorms.  Missed my alarm.  I woke up around 10:30, but I couldn't get out of bed.  Got up at 1:30 mad at myself, and I still am mad at myself.  And I'm in my pajamas at 3:45.  I hate being like this.   I hate it.

So ... now what?

So ... now what?

This is my first blog.  I can't sleep - again - so I thought I'd explore my new Chromebook.I can't figure out why it has a webcam but not programs or apps to take pictures or do facetime with someone.  That doesn't seem right, so I'm thinking I may have to do more searching.

I am mostly writing here because I haven't been able to write any fiction.  It's like the knack has been sucked out of me, and I don't know how to fetch it back.  

And I'm also writing here because I've been told it's good for depression -- for talking myself out of it, that is.  I don't know how much that's true.  I've tried talking to myself every day so far of my two and a half weeks off school, to no avail.  I come downstairs in the morning (at least I've been getting up while it's still morning, unlike last summer) and stare about, and head right for the sofa to read the paper and watch tv.  Then it's the computer or my phone or this laptop.  I just cannot move.

And it's of course making me put on more weight.  I set out a year ago to lose 50 pounds, and instead, I've put on 10.  That makes me angry at myself.

I wonder if I should be looking to up my antidepressant?

blathering about nothing isn't helping anything but my typing speed.

Heigh Ho!