I'm sick. A cold or somesuch. Sitting on my bed as I'm typing this -- to escape ER in the other room which, despite the attractions of Ming Na, I loathe -- listening to Pink Floyd, Pulse (live). The Great Gig in the Sky. Kinda fits my not-really-here mood.
Rageboy has been listening to Pink Floyd too. I did that a few weeks' back. Comfortably Numb it was, again and again. Hurting I was.
This depression hit harder than I thought it would. Harder than it's done for a long time now. Well, a year or so anyway.
And of course, like always, there's bugger all justification for it.
But the good thing is know how to catch it now. I can't head it off, hafta let it go for a while, maybe like letting a big fish run with the line for a bit. And then I can reel it in. Not all the way, but back to somewhere reasonable.
I think the rebuilding is starting. I was all for throwing this blog in earlier this week. Gary wrote of blog suicide. But perhaps not just yet.
We'll see.
9:33:11 PM 
|
