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Dear Aunt Keren,
Can you help me fix these? They are my most favorite pajamas and cannot be replaced.
xoxo,
your loving niece
(aka something the cat dragged in) -
The sun always shines through
I’m feeling better already, of course. I shouldn’t blog about these sad times because they always pass and usually pretty quickly. I don’t suffer from depression. I don’t even think I’m mentally ill! (Ha ha! Stop laughing.) I’m just moody. That’s what my mom used to always say anyway. My downs always follow highs and then…looptiloo, I’m looping right back into a high again. Which is great really because my highs are full creativity and they make me very very happy. Even though it might sound like it, I don’t think I’m bi-polar either. I’m just moody and I need to learn to keep it to myself.
Surprisingly, I did keep my sad fog to myself pretty well today (besides telling all you guys of course). Earlier, I turned around from my perch at the breakfast bar counter (aka my desk) and told Toby (who is sitting on the couch watching some incredibly boring show on PBS) that I loved him. Just out of the blue to, you know, keep him on his toes.
He says, “Why? What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say something nice because I’ve been feeling crappy all day and I’m just so happy that I’m not feeling yucky anymore.”
He gets this stricken worried look and says, “You were feeling unhappy today?” He’s thinking, uh oh… I did something wrong and now I’m going to have to sit here and listen to her hash it all out for the next two hours…
Of course I waved him off. He didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no explaining “sad fogs” to Toby. They make no sense to him. Which is fine. I’d rather keep this to myself and my internet friends.
And then I cooked dinner.
Stir fry. I’m sorry to any of my vegetarian friends. I’m sorry I had to show you that dead animal right there.