The world is making me sad. The weather is making me sad. I'm so tired of being sad. I'm starting to think there is something wrong with me. I'm tired of feeling that way too. I'm tired of writing to the air. Tired of melancholy and tired of trying to conceal it. Maybe I've inherited my mother's manic genes. Lately there are only four people on earth I care to see: My mom, my dad, my brother, and my husband. It makes me feel like a recluse.
I have hope spring will be better, so I am hanging on. If it doesn't rain tomorrow I'll go to Chinatown. Chinatown always lifts my spirits, and maybe I can pick up some ginseng oolong and lychee black tea while I'm there.
When the sun comes out again, I will ride my bicycle every day, I swear it.
10:32 p.m. - 2008-02-01