As indicated in my previous post, I am suffering from what one might call "the blues"; another "mild depression"; another "the winter blahs".

Ad nauseum.

Myself, I prefer none of those terms. I happen to like the color blue, and I wish not to equate it with my negative state of mind. "Mild depression" sounds too clinical and cold - not to mention a malady that can be treated with drugs. The season may have a small part in my sadness, but the third term seems to indicate that the "blahs" disappear once spring arrives. And alas, I fear that what ails me has done so for the greater portion of a year, maybe even two.

To me, the correct term is: melancholy.

I am suffering from melancholia.

I'm nearing 35 and already I feel weary of this world. Broken, burdened, beaten down, those pockets of joy I come across every now and then are becoming few and far between. I feel tired most of the time, lack of general feeling of ambition, and essentially I am living and doing only what I need to survive.

The worst part is: I don't know what to do about it. I don't want to be on medication. I've simplified my life about as much as I can. We've planned some special events/activities in the coming months as something to look forward to. What's left for a solution?

As much as I may blame the weather, my husband, or my children...I inherently know this sadness resides within me, which only adds to my helplessness.

However, hope springs eternal, and that is about the only thing I've got right now, and hopefully, it will be enough to carry me through.

I feel as if an otherworldly force impels me towards the Abyss of Despair…and it could be one of many things:

1. It is “that” time of the month. The ensuing hormonal upheaval causes me to feel unstuffed at the seams. I also morph into a dangerous carbohydrate addict during this time and I can’t fight the change at all. The other adult I live with understands not this curse, and thus, does not “handle with care”, so to speak.

2. While the exercise regimen is coming together nicely (training for spring and summer 5Ks again), the eating regimen is not. The diet soda consumption is violently unrestrained, fruits-and-vegetable ingesting is on the decrease, and in general, I am not being totally accountable when it comes to recording my food intake. Weigh-in day tomorrow…*sigh*.

3. Storm clouds may be brewing on the horizon as far as the World of Work goes. Nothing real definitive there, though.

4. I may possibly have an acute case of cabin fever. Also, it has been a mighty long time since I’ve been out and about in any kind of social scene, and Homebodyitis has definitely set in. Doctors may have to amputate.

I’m trying to keep it together and keep myself civilized, but it is a close thing. I almost burst into tears about five times while grocery shopping at Walmart this morning. I mean, c’mon, I know the price of milk is ridiculous and that they don’t carry the brand of hummus I like, but really? This Streamer’s got to get a grip! And soon!

is a composer named Clint Mansell. He's done music for films like "Requiem for a Dream" and "The Fountain".

Anyway, I've listened to this particular piece a lot times and I love it more every time I hear it. It's called "Lux Aeterna".

Clint Mansell's "Lux Aeterna" on YouTube

Shivers every time!

My inner spirit has been most appeased during the course of this still-not-yet-over-weekend.

Last night: Watching my husband get loopy from drinking one Long Island Iced Tea. Meanwhile, one Bloody Mary and two Rolling Rocks caused me to be a tad more belligerent, but not a jot less coherent.

Same night: Driving through McDonalds to satisfy an ice-cream cone craving, watching same husband drop his cone into his lap, later causing him to claim his ice-cream tasted like "pant leg". My cone was consumed in its full, unblemished, vanilla goodness.

This Morning: Looking up the recipe for a Long Island Iced Tea and discovering it's fairly high alcohol content.

Later On: Doing groceries and saving almost $11 with coupons. It just feels like I've given the big middle finger to the food companies of America who try to stiff us on high prices and bloat us on crappy nutritional content.

Way Later On (Straddling Sat-Sun): I must say I am somewhat satisfied with the contents of my winter closet. First of all, I have a decent variety of colors and styles to suit any occasion of the winter season. Many of my tops/sweaters/shirts are multipurpose, meaning I can pair them with work khakis or trousers as well as jeans. However, when I set about the very satisfying task of organizing my closet by color, I noticed something very interesting...

All long-sleeved tops - includes basically anything that is not a t-shirt.

13 - Pink
1 - Orange
4 - Green
4 - Blue
2 - Purple
2 - Brown
4 - Black
4 - White

Do you see what I see? An inordinate amount of pink. Definitely disproportionate to the rest of the colors of the rainbow. Perhaps this activity will help temper my shopping habits: if I choose to purchase a new article of clothing (aka top), it may not be pink. Or...if it is pink, I must discard a pink shirt from my wardrobe in its place.

I feel as if I am John the Apostle, who received the Revelation on the Greek island of Patmos. I have heard the word of the fashion god.

Sunday Morning: Arose at eight o'clock and completed the following tasks before hopping in the shower at 10:45.

1. Made a carrot cake (will be icing later).
2. Reorganized spice racks and pantry area (with help of daughter)/
3. Made Veg Noodle Soup and portionalized for the week ahead.
4. Prepared pot roast for today's dinner.
5. Prepared baked potatoes for today's dinner.
6. Did a load of laundry.

To me, this is a very satisfying way to spend a Sunday morning. In the kitchen. After my shower and lunch, I'll probably go workout, throw the roast and potatoes in, finish laundry, frost the cake...

OH YEAH. I do need to do a pile of schoolwork sometime today. Dammit, I knew there was something.

This is the latest missive from my ten-year-old son, and I hope to hell it's a passing phase.

If he truly is well on his way to becoming neurotically prudish, I will take advantage of the Iowa Safe Haven law and abandon him at the nearest hospital.

Not ever having been a ten-year-old boy, I don't know if this is all part of the development or what. Is it a normal prepubescent attitude thing for all males? I know I could probably Google it - you all know my skills there are pretty formidable - but I'm not sure I know how to cope if my son is indeed deviating from the path.

Not that we are nudists in this house, but I have never been squeamish about nudity in this house. I've always tried to stress that there is a time and place for nakedness, and the wise wo/man/boy/girl/dog knows when that time is.

However, I suspect I know from which quadrant this shame evolves. There's no need to name names, but let it be known - see how the sins your labors have put forth the fruits of shame!