I sit here at my desk sipping Starbucks coffee from my Starbucks expensive mug. My vantage point is over the PowerBook, through a plant grown from a cutting stolen from my wife’s grandmothers nursing home – aide memoir – and out of the window in front of me. Framed in my window, one floor up, are a couple of trees one either side, my garage roof, which is to the left, and the top of my garden fence. The sun has lit everything so starkly it is like it’s a huge ball of flaming gas in the sky. The whole thing may not sound exactly picturesque, but it is.

I say all this for one reason. I don’t feel bad today, in fact, despite a couple of really minor health niggles, I’m doing OK.

You won’t realise this, as how could you, but that’s a big thing (TM). Who knows why you get the good days, or rather the days that feel good even though the events in them are the same as other days; but you do get them, the good days.

I’ve had depression for years, years meaning forever, though it only hit me like a truck last year. When it hit me I was out for, I think, five months. Long story short, very short, with non of the juicy details that make for a good blog. Sorry but my blog will have to remain dire. During those five months I didn’t work, and things generally were pretty crappy.

For you depressed, mostly silent, lot; stay for the good days. They will come round, even for you.

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