I am trying not to blog about other people's drama in order to compensate for my own lack of anything to blog about, but, yeah, someone else's drama momentarily intruded upon my own. This resulted in the smoking of two cigarettes and much projectile vomiting (not on my part, for once.)

Enough of that.

Anyway, yeah. Things floating around my head.

It doesn't matter.

Really.

I missed my dose of medication today, and I could feel it wearing off. Below the therapeutic level. I pondered.

The fall is so much more bearable when you have a fellow SAD sufferer around. (Not that that's all you are to me, dear friends!) I tell ya, misery loves company.

I realize the reason why last year didn't fuck me up as badly as fall normally does. My circadian clock was completely thrown out of whack because I had to do shift work for an entire month. So the darkness didn't really smack me down until mid-December.

I realize that, while, yeah, there are some pretty critical things missing in my life right now (I'm talking about basic things. Like, normal life skills that well-adjusted people have and take for granted), much of this misery is purely biological in origin.

My theory is that (I'm almost sure I've written this down before—deja vu!) because my ancestors are from a place where the daylight hours do not vary much according to season, I am genetically ill-equipped for handling fluctuations in sunlight.

I absolutely hate the days after the time change from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time. (Goddamn tyranny of the time clock!)

Oh yeah. I sent my iBook away again. I hope they fix it. Or give me a new one. That would be sweet.

I'm blogging from a Windows machine. I hate it.

Ah, me. So anticlimactic.

What I am fearing (what I am always fearing) is the crash.

I can manage these low-level doldrums. No big deal. A little stagnation never hurt anyone.

I'm afraid of the Big One. One of these days I won't snap out of it. Catatonia city, maybe.

No use fearing the reaper.

I must say, though, I don't know what it was that triggered the unspoken, bottled-up thought in my head last night. The realization that every moment is a grudging gift from on high. The recognition that expectations are, for the most part, illusion. That if I just give up, then I can accept whatever comes my way without any bitterness.

I don't know, though. Despite all these twenty-thousand layers of defense mechanisms wrapped around themselves (Masamune's sword, I tell ya), I can't completely extinguish hope.

Maybe, though, I'm right, that the human body can adapt to any kind of pain if you give it enough time. (In the end, everything stops hurting anyway, right?)

I want to say something, even though I know that the time, the place, is all wrong, and I cannot trust anything that stirs in my heart.

Silence.

Trying is the first step to failure—Homer Simpson

So I will endure however many years.

I never knew how true it all was.

I am doomed to exile.

Oh. Because of my temporary computer-less existence, I missed my blog's birthday. Three years old, baby.

What madness.

I am incredibly incoherent at this point, so I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead.