Soooooo. Happiness is making itself scarce again, which isn’t great. I don’t know if it’s down to the lack of direct sunlight, the absence of clear, starry skies, or simply my brain chemistry being on the fritz again, but I’m gloomier than usual.
I mean, obviously I’m a loose collection of joyless neuroses at the best of times, it’s who I am apparently, but usually there’s a few bright spots on the horizon that I can aim for, some pleasanter climes where I can have a moments pause and not want to curl up and die at the cringing horror of it all.
Currently they appear to have been stolen and I don’t feel inclined to get out of bed, speak to people or function in any meaningful way beyond reading a book and maybe having a little cry because the world is a terrible place.
This is, of course, bollocks. The world is OK, so are most of the people in it, I don’t really have any reason to be glum. But fuck me, am I miserable at the moment. Tediously. Causelessly. Miserable.
So I’m changing my name to Raeven and buying a long black coat. If anyone wants me I’ll be beating up some Emo kids because they don’t understand me.
[Addendum]
Actually, I feel much better after all that and a sandwich (ham and cheese). I think I was just hungry. 
I have a SAD lamp which you might be interested in? I bought it in a product sale but am too damned cheerful to have a use for it. Do you want to organise an exchange?
Brain chemistry sucks, let me tell you.
Well, I suppose you know that, ahem.
You know, they do call it a Post Party Depression for a reason. Even if it was just a tiny party, it still was a party. ;]
I’d so hug you right now.
I think you’re talking about Post Partum Depression.
I doubt James is suffering from that.
Nah, I was talking about the Post Party Depression. It’s a Wizard thing. ;]
My, don’t I feel stupid.
And sarky, apparently.
Well ;]