I'm posting very quickly because I haven't posted in a while and I don't want anyone to think I fell off the planet or something. I'm in the middle of writing up some reviews from last week, but it's slow going, because right now, precisely at this moment, all I want to do is curl up into a ball and not exist for a few days.
So when the reviews are done I'll put them up. In the meantime, have some Prozac for me.
Aw Chris, Sorry you're feeling down. It'll pass, it's just the summer doldrums.Hug
Thanks. Although it's not the summer doldrums, it's just my brain and its weird biochemistry. At least, that's my current theory.
Yeah, I suffer from that too. The marvels of modern chemistry has done wonders for me.. Check it out.
Me too
Modern chemistry has helped me some, occasionally, but not entirely.
You haven't got a chance in the world,So use it.
Last night's comment, was intended to be inspirational.
I understand, Steve. I just didn't want to insult you by saying that it didn't inspire me at all. It's not you, it's me: When I'm like this, I'm not capable of being inspired.After many years of dealing with this, my current theory is that it's entirely biochemical. I used to think it was external -- it's because I don't like my wife! It's because I don't like my job! It's because I don't like my hair! -- but I no longer think it has anything to do with anything going on outside my nervous system. It is what it is.It's actually not as bad as it might sound from just this one post. I'm actually getting some things done. They're just non-blogging things. I'm not reading anyone's blogs, I'm not commenting, I'm not posting. I am, however, working on a Website design for a friend, and I've got two art irons in the fire I'm waiting to hear back on. My fabricators (I'm going to have fabricators! Oh boy!) are dragging their feet.If I pause for a moment, if I look up from Adobe Illustrator, or if I drive out to pick one kid up or drop one kid off, then the shroud descends, and I want to curl up into a ball. My unfinished painting with the centerfold has been bathing me in silent reproach. Pink Floyd's "Time" echoes in my head. I can hear Danonymous telling me to just work already and forget the voices telling me I don't feel like it.I don't feel like it.
Hey Chris, had this image of you as the cuddliest of perfectly round pill bugs. You know, the kind that have like 30 legs and curl up in a protective ball if they are touched. Totally unagressive. Just happy to have grass and plant roots to graze on.Pill bugs are really interesting. They are designed to be tuched so that one can store them neatly and evenly in the wide style straws and then sort of sneak them into grown-ups drinks.....especially when they are drunk and think they are tapioca balls.You don't need to go work through this. But I would suggest trying the straw trick out on someone. You know how sometimes you can't help laughing and rolling on the floor when something is inflicted on a poor bystander of life.---BRought to you by the momentary relief clinic of America.
Truly, Dan, thou art a mental case.
I thank you for the vote of confidence. I knew you would appreciate the Council's take on life.