I know, not the finest of Poe quotes, but it’s his birthday, and his annual roses and cognac have been bestowed. It also reflects my mood and those of a number of others. Blah.
Bright mid-winter sun and spring-like warmth, perfect accompaniment for being tired, antisocial, moody, unmotivated… I also spent the morning making phone calls and jumping through administrative hoops in an attempt to find a doctor (no, not for me). My advice? Don’t get sick. Ever. Or injured. Or depressed. Or pregnant. Oy vey… I’d base my vote on Monday on whichever party had the strongest healthcare reform/improvement platform, if I actually believed any of them would accomplish anything.
And so I attempt to fight it off. Wash dishes, vacuum, try and care about keeping things tidied up. Start a new sockmonkey and watch amusing trashy tv. See friends. Go to the movies. Re-release into the dating wild…
As the man at Zehrs told me yesterday morning, “Smile! It could be worse!” Yes, I suppose there’s always that.