... well no, I'm not going to put a bullet in my head, but I have been irrationally glum given my excellent circumstances. No amount of kits can cheer me up, not even this guy with his little pink tongue, not even three on one tree.
Look how big my babies are getting!
All I can think is that I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, but it's tied to summer, not winter. It makes no sense. All I want to do is sleep all the time. I did that all day today, and I feel like I'm just counting time till I get back to work, but at work I feel like I'm counting time to get to the weekend.
Of course, the shoe-buying continues. These will show up this week and will have to go back immediately. Four-inch heels. What was I thinking?
(Speaking of shoes, I did see something delightful this afternoon on CNN. Anchor Don Lemon was reporting on the news story that cliams you can tell a person's personality by their shoes. In a nutshell: Black or brown new shoes = no confidence, colorful old shoes = confidence.
Don Lemon held up his shoes for the expert he was interviewing. "So, what do these shoes mean?"
"They mean you're gay, Don." the expert said.)
Gary claims to feel much better and intends to ignore all symptoms from now on, now that he knows he won't die. Gary will live! I should rejoice! What's wrong with me?
Corningware lid asks, "Why so sad, girlfriend?"