i am wicked depressed today for no discernible reason.

okay, so that's not exactly true; i know exactly what the reason is, and it sucks, 'cause if i were depressed for any reason other than some stupid hormonal chemical imbalance, then maybe i could do something about it, like, say, think happy thoughts, or tell myself a joke or watch some stupid flash cartoon to cheer myself up, but as it stands, there's nothing i can do.

i am just wallowing in melancholy as it is. thinking about useless things, like how fat i feel in these pants and how dead-end my job is and how i'm not doing anything about it and how i've got no one to talk to and how everyone is busy tonight -- including spike -- and how i'm probably going to be spending my first friday night in a looooong time alone on my couch watching the four channels that i get that will invariably have nothing on because they only put the crap programs on on friday 'cause no one is home to watch them. i am feeling horribly sorry for myself.

and i can't even do the conventional things that i usually do to cheer myself up, such as go shopping [ i'm broke, rent's due on saturday ] or eat junk food [ this has some kind of horrible conflict with the "i'm a fat bloated pig" sensation i'm experiencing ] or have sex [ see: spike is busy and that hormonal/chemical thing again ].

the book i am reading is depressing and funny at the same time, but i'm only picking out the depressing parts.

i am alone at work, and normally this would make me hysterically happy, and i would be blasting the Black Rebel Motorcycle album i got my hands on and sitting cross-legged on my chair in a very unprofessional manner and surfing design site. but no. today i would rather just submerge myself in CD ROM interface designs and hope hope hope that as productive as i am being today that i can stretch out some more work for next week and not get sent home and not have to take a pay-cut.

and i don't think i'm getting that new futon. which means that i will be hampered with that damn ugly couch for the rest of my natural life.

and i have nothing to wear to the valentine's day dinner that i am having with spike tomorrow night that he hasn't me in seen a million times already.

and this sad thing and that sorry thing and blah de fucking blah blah blah.

and february still has fifteen days left.

and the after that, there's march. an ugly fat cold month. then april. then may. and by the end of all that it still won't be summer.

and ... and .... ah fuck it.