Home, Such As It Is

Yeah, I'm home. Got home last night, actually; the (mercifully) short trip was (mostly) successful, Queenie having (hopefully) bagged her man, so to speak. Sorry to be so vague; shit's like that sometimes.

I find myself horribly moody these days. I think I'm in need of more exercise; the vital humors are thickening into a lump, a touch of the old Seasonal Affective Disorder, or whatever. It would behoove me to trot my ass around the block a few times every day after work. Clear the lungs, calm the mind, work off some of the frustration that comes with being an aging no-talent frump with rock-star memories.

Jesus. Did I just write that last sentence? Anyone want a little cheese with that whine? Yes, I'm depressed - please don't leave comments begging me to get help, or seek medication, or not do anything drastic - I'm not that fucking depressed - but sometimes a girl just wants something, out there in the future, that she feels that she can look forward to. A milestone, a plateau, a goal. Today, I'm looking at my life and seeing, in detail, all the places I settled, all the places I made do instead of reaching for that brass ring, and I'm slowly coming to the realization that I've let myself run out of goals. I look forward to nothing. I'm building up for...nothing.