I slept OK last night, and enjoyed waking up without an alarm. For me, 8 AM, which was "really" 7.
I was pretty depressed, but I still did my God Time and watched a sermon on my computer. Then I tried to take a nap, but I couldn't, too wound up. I got up after about an hour and a half.
I took a shower (yeah, I know my sequence was off), ate some cereal, and took my medication. Question: what to do?
Ron was drinking and depressed. Try as I might, he can't get it: I can't handle his depression talk when I, myself, am depressed. I am fine when I'm manic but not depressed.
I was miserably depressed.
I had a couple choices, I figured. I could take a cab somewhere, but I'm almost out of money. I could take the bus somewhere, but where? I wanted somewhere fairly quiet, where I could sit and quietly drink a diet decaf soda. That eliminated Starbucks. And McDonald's, if I wanted quiet.
What about the gas station? I knew they had diet caffeine free soda in the soda fountain. They had tables. They were pretty quiet, everyone would just come and go.
I couldn't see them objecting to my freshly-bathed self sitting there and consuming something I'd bought. That's the goal, to sell products.
I walked over. It was really windy and my knitting bag almost flew off my arm, into the bayou. I made it there and bought the "bucket" sized diet decaf soda.
I sat down and began working on the black and white afghan. After a while, an employee came by, I believe a supervisor of some sort.
I explained to her I was "disabled" (I didn't mention the depression). My husband was disabled as well, and in a bad mood. I was his caregiver. I just wanted to get out of the house for a while. She was fine with that.
I called my aunt and we talked for a while. I bought a parfait and ate it, spilling some on my top.
I checked the time. I had been there about an hour and a half, probably time to go home. Besides, I was embarrassed about my clothes. I don't like to walk around stained.
I came home and used some pretreater on my shirt, that should take care of the stain. I changed into my black cat nightgown so I am comfortable. It's a black cotton nightgown, covered in black cats. I like it a lot.
Ron's still asleep, he drank a lot of wine before I left, but we'll see how the evening goes. He's not ugly or belligerent.
I'm just TIRED. I know a lot of it is the depression, and the rest is my medication.
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