Today has definitely been one of those too-depressed-to-do-anything days. At least, I found myself paralyzingly unable to write anything or work on any art or even think about the huge work-related to-do list that I tried to break into manageable pieces but instead just succeeded in making horrendously long.
I did manage to: mow the lawn; do the dishes; finish reading a really enjoyable YA novel, Gilda Joyce: The Ladies of the Lake; get my car serviced; go through a long list of e-mails; write a rather lengthy comment on this very interesting blog entry; and work out at the gym for an hour and a half. So it's not as though I've been completely idle. But I feel like I'm falling farther and farther behind on the to-do list, which probably has too much stuff on it anyway. The list seems to accumulate items faster than I can cross them off, which is bad. Plus my dad keeps pressing me about when I'm going to visit next, and before I do that I have to get his video camera fixed, which mysteriously stopped working when we were in China.
I realize I've been a total downer the past couple of days. There was one high point of the conversation with crazy woman Tuesday night (after which everything went rapidly downhill): I heard a rather amusing joke about Congressman Foley and how his next goal is to turn over a new page, or something like that. Har.