I don’t worry much. Okay, I don’t worry at all. I leave that to other people because there seem to be so many who specialize in it.
However, I do get depressed. It’s not often but it happens. Last night I got real depressed. It was hot. No AC. REM didn’t come, and monsters flitted across my brain.
I got depressed thinking about Trump and about what a bad person he is.
I got depressed thinking about the millions of Americans who really think he is a good person.
I got depressed thinking about what a bad person Hillary is.
I got depressed thinking about the millions of Americans who know she is a bad person but are going to vote for her because Trump is so much worse.
I got depressed about my legs. They are old and keep getting slower.
I got depressed about friends of mine who are having problems.
I got depressed about my family.
I got really depressed thinking about the Saturday blog I hadn’t yet written.
I got depressed thinking about the Donut Ride and about how I was going to get dropped.
I even got depressed about my oatmeal, which is generally the high point of my day, along with my coffee.
Eventually I drifted off to sleep and woke up punctually at 5:30. Then I got depressed again and slept in until 6:43, and sat on the edge of the bed being depressed about wasting the best part of the day being depressed.
I was so depressed I didn’t do any of my morning routines. Didn’t turn on the computer. Didn’t check the ‘Bag. Didn’t check email. Didn’t read the news. Didn’t listen to the ARD broadcast which was going to be saturation coverage of the Munich amoklaeufer.
Instead, I ate my oatmeal which was thankfully tasty and not depressing at all, and drank my coffee which was super happy and cheerful, and I sat down on the couch and watched an Anna’s hummingbird perch on the feeder and drink some nectar.
Then I picked up a book that’s been on my re-read list for a long time now but I’ve been too busy with SHIT to get around to reading it, Gravity’s Rainbow.
I sank into the couch and the book. I learned a bunch of new words in the first twenty pages. It was so calming and relaxing and pleasant even though it’s about German V2 rockets slamming into London terrorizing and killing people.
The day was quiet outside and I could hear the symphony snoring of my loved ones reverberate throughout the apartment.
The book was so engrossing, especially the part about fried bananas, which made me hungry all over again, and happy.
I realized that I had been overloaded with electronic input. Emails, Facebags, Internet news, and Things To Do That Have To Be Done. The book was my tonic and suddenly I was at peace.
I read a few more pages, then dressed and went for a bike ride.
I got shelled on the Donut Ride of course.
But I didn’t care.