Wednesday, March 24, 2010



I don’t want to get out of bed, I whined as Curtis stood across the hallway ironing his pants.

Jess, that’s a sign of depression, he responded. Are you depressed? he asked

Of course not, I retorted. I’m just tired.

But do you realize that you’ve worn all black for the past three days?

Uh, yeah, I guess I have, I responded, smirking at the thought that he even noticed what I wore when we’re both headed to work in a blur of early mornings.

I’m just happy I fit back into some of my skinny pants, and these ones just happen to be black.

I’m not depressed, I’m just ready for spring, I think to myself.


CitricSugar said...

Not wanting to get out of bed isn't always a sign of depression. Sometimes it's the sign of a co-dependent relationship with one's comfy mattress... Or enjoying warm kitten snuggled right in.... Those are not depressing things. :-)

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