I crawled into bed last night thinking, "I'm just not going to get up tomorrow. I'll stay in bed all day. I'll sleep. I'll stay there, disgusted with myself all the day long. I'll pull the covers up over my eyes and just pretend I don't have anything to do.
I didn't, of course.
I got up early. Got in a bit of exercise. (It's a forced habit. My heart isn't in it, and I can't specifically say I'm doing myself much good, but at least I'm not sitting on the couch letting age overtake me.) I put on a skirt to go "to work" and run my errands.
I'm in "should do" mode for the moment. As in, this is what I should be doing, how I should appear in public, what the person I am inside my head would be doing if that person were me. Lacking the enthusiasm, of course. The inner drive.
I did stop for a burger at Sonic... and a Hazelnut Java Chiller. My comfort food? My moment alone. My moment to listen to myself think and then try not think at all.
It's just one day.
One black cloud kind of day.
I don't know why they show up or why I bother to tell you here.
It will pass. It always does.