Yesterday I felt lazy and tired. I sat around all day doing laundry while I watched about 10 episodes of a certain television show I find extremely lame but unexplainably compelling. In fact, everyone in the house is watching it. At one point yesterday, three different episodes were playing in three different rooms of the Plantation. I’m a little embarassed to have started this craze. I won’t tell you which show it is, but I will tell you that it has a lot of characters with alliterative first and last names and uses a lot of symbolism involving primary colors.
I didn’t get to bed until about 1:30, but I did make it to my 8:30 doctor’s appointment early. However, I felt extremely depressed from the moment I woke up. Far more depressed than I think I ever have been. Resigning to the fact that it was just the gloom of a sterile medical dungeon on a Monday morning, I flipped on the radio on the way into the office. NPR ran a story about some “scientific” study that had determined January 24 to be the most depressing day of the year.
A certain someone explained to me that Dostoevsky would call this the coincidence that makes the science bullshit. I am inclined to agree. Still, that NPR and some stupid statisticians could ever have my number is a depressing thought itself. It’s a good thing I finally got my JCM 2000 TSL60 fixed. I need to go home and make some metal.
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