NRED (Non-Random Explicable Depression)

To get the things I had every intention of mentioning in further detail out of the way:

I managed to get Choo-Choo Bear (my ThinkPad that may actually be net-enabled) to work last night.

Yet another incident on the Tubes. Third in the last week. One of these days I'm going to be on one of those trains and *splat*.

Meeting I'm supposed to find films for was cancelled, which would be a good thing except I've already gone looking for the damn films.

Going to this Radio 4 recording thing with cholten99 and some of his crew. Should be fun.

That last, however, is entirely dependent on my brain being able to get out of the cyclic depressed rut it seems to have fallen into. There are a number of reasons for the depression, so it's not RID, but that's small comfort. I really ought to just stop fretting over things I cannot change and take what I can get out of life, but I'm not 95% of the population and I need more out of life than the path of least resistance. Things that are wrong with the world actually bother me. Things that are wrong with those I care for also bother me. And fine, I can't do anything about it, but if I didn't feel bad about these things, I'd be a callous bitch and like hell am I going to be one of those.

Funny, isn't it? If you boil the above down to its essence, I'd actually rather be depressed. That sounds terribly familiar as a way to live, and in a way it frightens me. On the other hand, I do take my moments of joy when I can find them, and I actually go out looking for them, so I suppose there's balance of a sort.

It's too early in the morning for the blues.

Thess

Straight On 'Til Morning

So I'm depressed. Not much new about that. But there's gotta be a way out of it, at least for a little while. I mean, for crying out loud, I don't want to be the world's biggest buzzkill this evening. And dragging through work feeling like this sucks like a hyperactive Hoover (particularly when they've switched the radio station to Magic [I'm not giving the bandwitdh because that craptastic station should not get the advertising]).

So I'm going to try to cheer myself up by making a list of all the things I have to look forward to.

This radio thing I'm going to this evening. Fine, I'll probably have to bail soon after it's over because I'm broke and I hate going to the pub when I can't get a round in, but all the same it'll be some kind of social thing. (I wonder what the radio show thing's about, anyway -- I never really bothered to ask, figuring it'd be fun for sheer novelty value whatever.)

Payday, either tomorrow or Monday depending on how together Payroll gets its act. (As I recall, they're pretty good; it's my bank that deserves to die.) Which means I can finally go on outings without feeling like a complete 'tard.

Quickly following on from payday comes Colindale. It's going to be bloody difficult to get there what with the Northern Line and everything, but thanks to Sunday's little adventure with the bus system, I at least know how it could be done. That'll be either this weekend or next depending how together Payroll gets its act (I'm going to spend a lot of my life saying that, I can tell...). Then I'll get my traditional big bowl o' ramen, browse the bookstore for new anime, and hit the grocery store for the necessities of life (miso soup cos Kate commissioned me to go get some for her and cos I want some myself, osuimono, nori, that kind of thing). I'll also get Pocky and assorted Japanese sweets which I may bring to the next 7th Sea game, provided I can make the next one and I don't eat them all.

Hallowe'en. Paaaaaaaar-TAY!

Christmas. Well, the Christmas outing to Montreal, anyway. Sushi, hockey, Ottawa, family, all that good shit.

My birthday holiday. I'm having the odd second thought about the West Coast, but whatever I do and wherever I go, it'll be fun. You only turn 27 once. (Well, actually, if you're one of those women who's sensitive about her age, I guess you turn 27 as many times as you can get away with.)

...I think that's all I can think of. You know, it doesn't actually help. Now that sucks.

Thess