I have been trying to post a little more often, and with a little more material than rote listings of crap I've thrown away. (Really? It seemed like such a good idea in January!)
I could comment on last week's pathetic weight loss (.5 lbs) and then go on to justify why it was so low. (It took my crazy triathlete friend 5 months to drop 12 pounds, so I shouldn't feel bad. But then again, she's doing Lake Placid this week with hopes of qualifying for Kona and I drank myself into a whirling dervish of stupidity last weekend)
I could do any number of things.
But....sigh...I don't feel like it.
Sometime over the past week I slipped into something that's not quite depression, buy almost. I call it a deep blue funk. It's generally a stranger is summer months. But nonetheless, it's here now. In the house with me. Sitting next to me in the jeep. Looking over my shoulder at work. Perched on the treadmill next to me at the gym. Mr. Deep Blue Funk.
He makes me remember things like -- why I moved away from here in the first place all those years ago. And forget things like -- why I moved back. I glaze over occurrences like-- laughing until both J and I were prone on the floor, yelling scathing but funny comments at the drivel that was parading in front of us in the form of a movie. And yet I obsess over things like how we have such different ideas of where we want our lives to go from here and sometimes that makes me feel like we don't know each other at all.
The rain continues to fall outside and I don't have any feelings either way. Except that maybe it's good sleeping weather.
And Nerd's officially moving out of state. Good-bye.
Sigh. Maybe I should just end this post. Mr. Deep Blue Funk is waiting to chat.