Things I Forgot This Morning . . .

Lately I have a hard time remembering things. The sort of things you should not forget. And it happened again this morning . . .

Now today it is more understandable that I should forget because at 7:30 I was coming back from an hour at the gym and had not (still have not at 9:09am) gone to sleep yet. Nonetheless this is an odd and recurring problem. I . . .

I keep forgetting what season it is. Like what month we are in. I think it is fall, but then realize no, that's not it. Sometimes I will think it's winter. Also no. Spring? No. Oooohhhhh. Summer. It is June. Right. June.

How do you disconnect from what month it is?! I blame unemployment.

Sadly when I realized that I have forgotten this I thought about the fact that I had forgotten a lot of things lately, but now I cannot remember what they were.

I think I need to get some sleep . . .

The Top 8 Benefits of Depression: See! There's (almost) Always A Bright Side

Once the pathetic self-pity began to lift (okay, as it is beginning to lift) I have tried to gain some (not really) perspective & find the, er, close-to bright side of it all. That is to say that I have found some of the the perks of being pathetic & depressed.

My Top 8 Are Below (not in any particular order):

1. You get to see more sunrises. (on account of the insomnia)

2. You get a little high school summer-time flashback by sleeping until 11 or 12! (on account of the awake 'til sunrise 5 nights in a row)

3. Weight loss! I have lost at least 4 pounds in less than a week. Even if when I do eat it is primarily crap (sans Kyle making me eat real dinners most nights), I hardly eat at all - so that is a TOTAL plus. (granted I am just storing fat & losing muscle, but I have SO little muscle to lose that it has to be some of the chubbiness falling off -- so says my jeans at least)

4. You catch up on your "stories" - even if they are complete seasons of shows that you have watched over & over, it's okay! Now you can pick up on ALL the nuances you missed the first (second, or third) time(s) around!

5. You really catch up on facebook. Because there is not really enough of that in the average day, this way you can seem like the crazy status post-er that you always aspired to be.

6. (and this one is important) You renew your love for music from your youth, like listening to The Cure, Depeche Mode, & Morrisey.

7. You have more time to devote to your obsession with Nathan Fillion (or insert the name of your favorite actor).

8. You improve the healthiness of your skin & hair because you stop putting on make-up or styling your hair with product, blow drying & a straightener. (who needs that stuff when depressed? No one. It is really oxy moronic to be truly pathetic & depressed AND look nice. I guess if you're leaving the house you can smack on some lipstick, but really isn't nearly 20 years of making an effort to prettify before leaving the house enough?)

There are probably more, but all this cheeriness is really exhausting. I should save something to do at 3am.

:)



**Like the Phoenix I'll rise again! Wait, I don't want to do that. The damn bird has to burn to death first! Although he has the whole rebirth, renewal, immortality thing going, so that's cool.**

Lost & Found In Story

I am a lover of words. A keeper of stories. I believe we all have at least one to tell.

I sometimes wish I could live inside the stories of others, inhale their words & slip away, far from me & this landscape I often feel swallowed up in.

I’ve been lonely for much of my life, although not alone. At one point when I was nearly as alone as I was lonely, I found myself saying that it is okay to not have many friends; I have my best friend, and when that is not enough, I have Jane Austen and her stories.

See I am not a great or terribly well-read reader, but I know that books and stories are faithful friends and that you can, “put them down and they’ll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they always love you back” (John Green). When you become both lonely and alone you learn that the words whispered onto the pages of books can be your life-line, not just to another world but even to your own.

When the walls are unscalable. When I am down to just one last string. When I need something to hold on to; something not human that will not so easily decay; I need something to hold the innermost parts of me together with the rest of the world – I know then that I need the secrets, loves, pains, joys and adventures of others. I need the “something” that exists in stories.