I’m going to Cancun with my wife and my co-workers this week. Wednesday through Sunday. We’re pretty stoked, though I don’t know what I’ll do to survive the plane trip — I’ve started to get claustranxious on planes, and it’s a five-hour flight.
That is all.
Depression has been kicking my arse this week. Well, for the past two days. I’m running at about 50% (if I’m generous) efficiency at work, and I’m giving up on my diet which helped me lose 7 pounds in 7 days. (Was the diet to blame for my mood swings, you ask? Nnnah, I don’t think so. I think it’s good ol’ bipolarity at work.)
It’s weird depression. I have a business idea that I came up with on Saturday that I am fully confident in still, whereas normally the depression would render any hope in an entrepreneurial vision dead.
Which makes me think maybe I’m NOT just depressed, but rather maybe life DOES suck.
That’s me being funny. It’s a bit darker than normal, methinks.