No! Sleep! Till ... 2 a.m.??

I have been in bed all day today. One PG&E bill was paid. Breakfast was consumed at 5 p.m., comprised of bing cherries and Triscuit. It's Sunday though, and some people might say that's what Sundays are for - laying around, doing nothing at all.

Normally I'm not like that. Since moving to San Francisco, I like to go out and frolick in the, well, in the all-the-seasons mist (and fog). I like to go exploring, or to fucking yoga, or for a walk, or to stock up at Trader Joe's, or something. Anything. Spending time outside makes me feel better, and being productive makes me feel better too.

But last night I was talking with my roommate and her Weekly Saturday Night Friend until 2 a.m. And when I woke up to the sounds of the Bay to Breakers running by, it was cold outside my blanket. And I was still kind of tired. And nobody was expecting me anywhere. So under my blanket I stayed.

Staying in bed all day is something I'm normally very careful about doing. Sometimes I don't realize I'm depressed until I'm fully entrenched in it, and am struggling to remember the last time I showered and changed my clothes. Luckily, that hasn't happened since December, but there can be little slips here and there. I have to constantly analyze my actions - why am I in bed? Why am I still not dressed yet? Today, it's okay. I normally don't stay up chatting with people until two in the morning. Even if I'm awake then, I'm snuggled into bed and partially resting.

Last night there was fun stuff going on - and I stayed up to be involved in it. Even though by the time my hand drifted back down to my lap it was always time to pick it up again to cover the next yawn.

Now I am awake, and ready to go do the day. At 7:22 p.m. at night.