Thanks, y'all. As has been said so many people, I do NOT know what I would do without y'all.

Main desk is clean.

Bathroom is next.

I may take my last, lone-Xanax to get me through this, and then cadge one off my brow-wax friend, if not to get though the brow wax, then to make it though the last of the night.

I think this is all I have in me today, but since it is more than enough to make me feel like I am DOING something, I will be satisfied.

I am taking the Xanax now, so that I can face the bathroom and cat box with something approaching equanimity.

You guys -- as always -- have been a loving, understanding lifeline, and to the end of my days (may they be long and relatively full of joy and happiness -- I've spashed my way through this gutter before and will likely do it again) I will never forget it to fail to be grateful for you all.

Grazie, my dearests.

Have you posted your interview with Seanan, Erin? That could give some yays.

Erin, darling.

Your heart may feel black. But it is not black to those of us who can see it from the outside. It might be like one of those art projects where you take a charming picture and burn the edges then shellac it to a wooden plaque (a well-done one, not a half-assed one). So, sure, it may look blackened around the edges, and if you are looking at it from the wrong angle that might be all you see. But the rest of us see the charm, the view, the strength, and the shiny-ness.

The observation that other people "have much harder/real problems" does so very little to help. You feel what you feel. And those who do have worse troubles - I assure you that they love you and are deeply concerned for you. They may not have the spoons to say much. But they are not thinking of you as anything other than another person struggling with spoon-management.

To misquote The Master, sometimes a modicum of yay is enough.

Erin, here's hoping that you crate that black dog pronto.

Cat box is clean, bathroom is straightened (not what my Virgo self calls "clean" but improved.

P-C, no, I have finished Seanan's inteview. Every time I try to open it, that black dog bites my eyeballs out. But I am determined to get it up this week, as I am beginning to claw myself out of the pit and thrash the pendulum to splinters.

Especially since I was so excited about it and now I am just in the "YOU SUCK RANCID PICKLED DRAGON FEWMETS" stage. But coming out of it, slowly.

It's 86 degrees here today; I will some pools were open, as I feel that basking in the sun would do me good. I could go out and attack the "garden" but I think I will just do some inside cleaning puttering today; the mess my garden is in would fill me with ennui and despair. I think I WILL call out yard guy and have him come and attack the front and back yard this weekend. (Our lawnmower shot craps last summer.)

Perhaps I will see if for a nominal fee, he can haul the wooden pile-o-junk out of the back yard of doom, too. Everything I look at it, I feel more depressed.

Erin, do you have a lounge chair outside that doesn't face the yard work? Maybe take a break with a glass of water or whatever in the sun, get some vitamin D and bask for a bit.

You are doing great!! FWIW, when I was in a foul mood the other night, I put on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me while I made dinner and before I knew it I was laughing like a loon.

Erin, consider yourself snuggled. Depression can kill, it's not something to take lightly. And anyone, regardless of how good their life is, can suffer from it.

Take care of yourself. Let others take care of you. Maybe find someplace to sit in the sun (where you won't have to look at the "yard of doom") - it might help. I find that sometimes just finding a place with green stuff growing will help.

hair pats, a kick in the ass to the black dog, and what everyone else said.

All I can say is that I urge everyone struggling with the Black Dog to get help, and if nothing works, get a thorough checkup. Otherwise, you'll get nothing done for months and months. Your house will be filthy; your business will go down the tubes; and you'll be broke with no prospects. Then cancer will suck up all your time with appointments, logistics and insurance stupidity and make you so tired that all you can do is contemplate the drifts of dog hair across the floor.

Also, you'll be boring, depressing and use too many semicolons.