"Are you depressed?"

Was the text I received right before I started this post.

I replied, "Maybe, huh?" Then, as I have a habit of doing- sending multiple texts in a row when I could just not be an impatient spaz and send them all at once and save my interlocutor a couple of cents from their next phone bill- wrote: "Gonna blog to at least make it productive depression."

Fact is: I don't really think I'm depressed. I think it's just a mini-slump, or wave as I like to call them, which is beckoning a greater phase ahead, which even though I don't know what it is, I'm really excited about. The other fact is: I decided to quit my job after listening to Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love of All". If you ever need advice that will lend itself to crucial decision making, clearly don't come to me. I might direct you to a Bee Gees song and tell you to go with whatever you feel afterwards.

Although, I just reread that last paragraph, and besides the "I don't know how I'm going to survive, financially, in a month" part I decided to exclude, there's nothing terrible about any of this. Maybe this is the best Saturday I've had in a while and I don't realize it.