Thought I'd actually made it past my stage of breaking down into regular existential crises at work, and had instead moved on into a dull and consistent state of pure depression. But, based on the fact that I just burst into tears at my desk due to a swift kick in the ass (in the form of a text message) from a fellow resource conservationist... apparently not! Damn. I was so comfortable in my state of depression. It was, well, depressing... but at least it was consistent. And consistency is something I have very little of in my life, so I am happy to get it when I can. Even in the form of depression. On the upside, having an existential crisis is proof that I'm still alive. I'd actually begun to believe for the past few months that I was dead. Or at least a sick reanimated life form. But Hallelujah, I'm alive, and in full-swing existential crisis mode! Don't mistake that enthusiastic exclamation point as sarcasm, now. I am quite happy to know that my heart is beating of its own lovely accord, and not because I'm being fueled by a deadening sort of liquified money.
Time for Girl Talk. Then beer! And then resumeeees. More resumes!
