Down. Home.

Wow. This is unanticipated.

After a long flight that got me into Philadelphia at 11 pm on Sunday, and a long drive home that got me to the Old Homestead at 12:45, I was pretty much expecting yesterday at work to be grueling. Not so. I was really tired as I went up to Quakertown to get Faithful Companion outta lock-up, but nothing could prepare me for this morning.

Man. When the alarm went off, it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed to silence it. I dragged myself out to the kitchen to get tea, and I felt like I had been drugged. In the shower, I decided to call in to work. Surely they could live without me for a day. The excuse I came up with is that our basement is flooded (true), and that I needed to be hear to take care of that (not true).

After I made the call, I went back to bed. And slept until 1:30 pm. Yowza! I must have really been exhausted.

But here's the uncanny thing. I woke up in this deep, black mood. One I haven't quite shaken. I feel sad, lonely, listless, and purposeless. Just plain ol' depressed, I guess.

Probably a natural result of having to re-enter the quotidian after the great vacation. But still... hate this.

Oh. The iciing on the cake: the post in my left nipple fell out. Again. *sigh* I haven't had the courage or the initiative to take a stab--so to speak--at re-inserting it. Maybe I'll just wait till I'm in NYC this Saturday and go to Venus on East 4th Street. I've been planning on going up from 10 guage to 8 guage, and might as well get it all done together. More pain.

Need to get out and get to the gym. That would lift my mood. I'm reminded of Superman exposed to kryptonite: "Feeling weak... can't move... going black... Must. Stay. Awake. Can't go underrrr... Unhhh...."

Anyway. The swing of the pendulum.

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