Golden Hour or Blue Hour, It's Still Dark

It seems the high of the year is kind of gone. Could be from the lack of diet as of late, to lack of physical activity, to the lack of activity altogether. I don't know, and to be quite honest I don't care. It's just gone and I want it back.

I'm stuck in this state of melancholy. I was tempted to type depression right there, but depression just wasn't the right word. This is more melancholy. I have this sadness lingering over me. Like a mourning close to what you feel when a loved one dies, but this is caused by...nothing. Nothing in particular at least. I get like this from time to time. No rhyme or reason, at least none that I can discern.

It seems to have started before my North Carolina trip and it hasn't gone away. It's stuck around like a shitty situation you feel you can never shake. Right now nothing is making me happy.

I hate my last haircut and every time I look in the mirror I'm reminded of just how awful it is. I keep wanting to let my hair grow out, but fuck me if I can't get over that awkward phase where it's getting long enough to be hard to keep up with, but not long enough to do anything with.

I hate working, but I hate my off-work hours. I get so excited to come home, and when I'm home I can't find a single thing to be happy about. I could play Destiny. Ehhhh. I could watch a show. Ehhhh. A movie? Yeah, not with my lack of attention span right now. Okay, I guess I'll just float around and wait for David to come home.

The two things I love doing when I'm home, coffee and cigarettes, are both starting to take a toll on my health. Coffee has been giving me bad headaches. Doesn't help much that I drink around 20 cups a day on my day off. And the smokes have been leaving my lungs feeling heavy and sticky. My blood feels like it's simultaneously made of sludge and water.

I keep telling David to be patient when he complains about needing a vacation. The truth is, I need one too. I just need to spend time with him. He comes home so late I have no time with him on his workdays. Right now we only have Sunday's off together, and it flies by so fast, it feels like we haven't had a Sunday since New York.

I'm feeling so disfigured over this sadness.

I know that it's a momentary thing. Fuck, ten minutes after posting this I'll probably be feeling a little better and smiling. At the very least tonight when I'm gaming with my friends I'll probably be laughing and having some genuine fun.

Fun.

It's weird. It seems that despite this persistent melancholy I've been having fun. I know this is going to sound kind of corny, but I don't have a genuine laugh very often. Most times I laugh it's more convention. It's out of expectation or social nicety. Lately though, I've been laughing more. I don't know if I should worry, or count it as a blessing. That's not me shooting a flair in the air so please don't misinterpret. It's just honest thinking. Should I worry?

I'm hoping that all of this is just tied to the fact that my life has become quite...stale. I'm hoping that next week, when David is back to working the normal 9-6 schedule we'll be returning to the gym. YES, I already know I'm going to be posting about how much I hate going and how it's consuming all of my time...but it'll be happy complaining. Even when we were going before and I hated it and drug my nails across the floor in resistance to the notion of going, I still enjoyed it. I still felt great about it. About everything.

Maybe that's just what the doctor ordered. A little sweat to wash the blue away.