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This is not funI'm tired. Tired and depressed. Usually when I'm depressed I curl up into a little ball in my room and read and/or play video games and/or sleep. However, since a) I have to work, and b) after work there's that whole Lost in Space thing, that isn't an option. I feel like doing something, however, and since I thought of all of you out there in never-never land, I'll send you email. It may be entertaining. If I go the writing myself out of a depression route, it will certainly be entertaining. It may be depressing, on the principle that it will be cathartic. I don't know, I'll just type, and we'll see if I'm more cheerful at the end.I should have opened with "I'm depressed. Depressed and tired." That's the correct order. I've just conditioned myself through years (well, months) of beginning emails with "I'm tired". Conditioning is good for the soul. Or maybe not. <The picture suddenly starts wavering, like those bad flashback special effects. Over the picture is superimposed the words "This is not a flashback. This may or may not be a dream sequence, depending on how it develops. It may just be a scene of some kind." The words waver along with the scene, then start attacking each other. The ensueing melee results in flashes of phrases flashing by almost faster than you can read them. You see "able was I er", "It takes two to Tango", "faster than a speeding bulleT", and "fnord". The messages fly by faster and faster, ending in a blur of battling words. An ache develops in your head. You do your best to ignore it, fascinated by what is flashing by on the screen. The words move faster and faster, and then suddenly vanish, leaving behind the short phrase, "only you can sTarT forest fires", and then that too vanishes. The haze clears.> Ow. That hurt. Hold on, let me check my depression level. Suicidal Homicidal A bit better. At least I feel less like a walking corpse. ...I'm still depressed, though. And tired. ...And lonely. Sigh again. What's the phrase? If wishes were fishes, we'd all walk on water. So no. It isn't being a fun day so far. [\]ot in the slightest. - ( <-- Cyclops frownie. Maybe we can start anti-smiley's and call them frownies. Hmph. Maybe I can self-induce vomiting. And then use that as an excuse to go home. Maybe if I can stop feeling so sorry for myself, I'll cheer up. Maybe pigs will fly first. Maybe. Maybe I can work on my short story some more. I pretty much just started it and then left it alone for months. I could reread it. Maybe to celebrate EvilBrian's initiation I can do a "Best of Wierdos" email. Less work for me. It'll have to have the pickles rant. Maybe I'll just stop now. Yeah, that sounds most likely.
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