The black whole

March 1, 2009 rooroo

Recently, my mood has taken a bit of a battering, to the extent that I am weeping at adverts and have to hold back tears during Saturday Kitchen. My mum is going through the same thing, except that she’s menopausal and after peeing on numerous sticks, I can confirm that I have no hormonal excuse.

I’m hearing, “Go and see your doctor,” from all directions. I don’t actively encourage self-diagnosis among medics, but I can say with some confidence that I am not depressed. Playing the devil’s advocate, even if I was mildly depressed, it’s not something I feel is going to be helped with a 7 minute consultation (despite the fact that I find little chats therapeutic). I’m aware that whatever I’m going through is self-limiting so I guess it’s just a matter of riding it out through the mist.

As of tomorrow, my 7 day studying week is back, oh joy. I’m not sure how that’s going to effect what’s going on above. The concept of March is going to be abstract as intensive working like this kills any memory of well, everything. Not a bad month considering seasonal produce isn’t at its most inspiring.


The hoarder in me bought a bottle of sparking rose which apparently has subtle hues of strawberry in it, to be enjoyed with strawberry type desserts. I know strawberries aren’t in season right now, but I purchased it in anticipation.

Maybe I do need to see a doctor.


Entry Filed under: me, myself and eye

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