Forgetfulness in action

Well, I forgot until last week that I have tickets to see Dead Can Dance a week from Wednesday in New York.  Anyone interested in joining me?

I have realized that I have spent the past decade turning my coping mechanism into a career.

A clear sign my depression is waxing just now:  I find keep minor piano chords as my internal sound track, and I find myself imaging dying in various circumstances, and trying to come up with the funniest last words.  (What can I say?  Edmund Kean is my hero.)

In the mean time, trying to limit myself to ONE sticky bun.


EDIT:  Another Tuesday evening drained away at home suggests to me that my marriage might also have had an element of coping strategy to it.  M is the best anti-depressant available without a prescription.