Surely it would be a dull world if everyone was always happy. That's what I'm telling myself anyway, as the guest of honor at my very own Pity Party. I've spent most of the day fighting it, and have finally decided to go with it, to wallow in the mood until it passes. It's a workable plan as long as the party is over by tomorrow. The only thing I'm worse at than being ill or a patient is being blue. I just don't have the knack. I'm a very happy person at heart, and these dark moods really throw me for a loop.
I'm not sure what it is that's causing this. I know what I think it isn't. It isn't my foot, although it sure could be. It isn't the holidays, because I'm going low-key like nobody's business this year. It isn't money, because I see way too many people in genuine financial crisis to stress out about my situation too much. It isn't my kids, isn't my job, isn't my health. It isn't even my house. The tub is draining, thanks to some miracle stuff that my step-father recommended, and my kitchen sink is being looked at tomorrow. All my ducks are in a row. Everything is good.
Good and blue.