Supine

things don’t always have to mean something

I didn’t want to write today and spent most of the evening staving off a wave of depression. Came out of nowhere. I’ve been doing everything right. But then this cold, slushy, muck creeps into my bones and suddenly the only priority in my life is to be supine on the couch a TV show I’ve seen a million times before.

Ergo, the awkward comfort of my favorite escapist program, 30 Rock. But every time I rewatch, I wonder how it will hold up in a generation. Take these two gay jokes:

“I am extremely secure in my athleticism, my masculinity, and my rectal integrity.” — Jack

“I was trapped in a world of wet wipes and rectal thermometers. Then the babies came and life changed.” — Devon

I find them both funny, but I can easily see a world in which this could be written off as lazy homophobia.

Whatever. The moral of this story is I made it through today with the conflicting help of Crossfit and McDonald’s. This is often the case with depression as I’ve experienced it: scrambling to balance guilt on an emotional seesaw.

Anyway, I’m off to warmer climes tomorrow for a work trip to San Diego. Have never been. To-do list before 7am flight:

1. Download podcasts.
2. Take out trash.
3. Finish to-do list.