Wish You Were Here

I've always liked that expression: Having a great time, wish you were here. It's especially funny when said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. Which is how it pertains to my life right now.

I have had about the most "blah" week imaginable this week. By "blah," I mean don't-wanna-get-out-of-bed, what-am-I-doing-here, oh-good-grief-is-it-summer-vacation-yet? Yes, that kind of "blah." I woke up Monday morning and my first thought was, "I don't want to go to work today."

Yeah, yeah, I know, we all think that when the alarm goes off bright and early on Monday morning. But this thought was accompanied by a huge pit of unease in my stomach and the near-constant threat of tears as I got ready for work. Did I forget my antidepressant? No, I took it. Did I have a bad dream? No, but I did wake up twice having to pee in the night.

I don't know how to explain it. All I can say is that it's now Thursday, and while I've had some better moments since then, this week, overall, has been dominated by that "blah" feeling. I feel discouraged. Again, it's not something I can explain; it is what it is.

There have been some bright moments--it's not all doom and gloom in my world. I went to a staff social gathering at a local restaurant yesterday (we do it every full moon), and it was a great time. Tomorrow I'm going to Mom and Dad's for the weekend. Mom and I have grand plans to sit around doing puzzles, watching NASCAR on Saturday night, and to do a little bit of shopping (I need jeans). No offense to any of my fine friends in the greater Sacramento region, but this trip is a Mom and Dad trip. I don't really want to go out much. I'll try to catch up with everyone else soon, I promise!

And believe me, you don't want to hang out with me when I'm this "blah," anyway.