Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

I slept okay last night but I woke up tired. This is normal.

I didn't want to get out of bed. This is not. Once I'm awake, I just stew in my own worst thoughts. I get hungry. I think about how nice it is to go around the house opening curtains and unloading the dishwasher and these little morning chores I usually have as part of my routine.

This time, not only did they not seem as appealing as usual, it seemed impossible even to put on enough clothes to be warm enough to leave my bed.

So I just stayed there until after 11. When I'd woken up at like 8:30.

I wasn't enjoying myself, but I wasn't miserable either. I didn't care. I looked for the intrusive thoughts my brain usually sends me while I'm lying awake but none came. Which was weird, but a relief.

Finally I put on the minimum amount of clothes (one of my Christmas presents from my parents was this warm, cozy sweatsuit and I've been getting a ton of use out of it on days like this) and went downstairs. But nothing changed.

I've done the bare minimum all day: didn't eat much. Didn't move much. Read more of the stuff on my phone that I had been reading in bed.

I talked about going to get Gary some more food because he's nearly out, and today a day when I had absolutely nothing to do seemed like the more logical choice than tomorrow when I'd have to fit it around work. But then I realized that I couldn't imagine going upstairs to put on outside clothes, never mind getting all the way outside.

Gary had a sleepy day too, which I was grateful for. Since he's been more lively this afternoon I've been his target for food, toys, games, attention, door-opening (once mother_bones, who was near the back door, asked him if he wanted to go outside and he ran away...to go fetch me and tell me he wanted to go outside so I had to go let him out). And that's been okay. I might not have gotten him any food (we found some more that was hiding anyway, which makes it less urgent!), but I kept him going today.

And I grudgingly ate some food myself, and I'll have a shower after I talk to my parents...if I ever do (they're a nightmare to get on skype these days because they have an old iPad they can't update because my dad doesn't know what the difference is between an e-mail address and an Apple ID, and they understand this so little that they always blame the problems on me because I'm the only person they ever skype).

I'm still not feeling bad or guilty, I don't feel like I've "wasted the day" or anything. I'm exhausted but in a nice himbo way: head empty, no thoughts. It's very weird but I'm not complaining. Normally I make myself miserable when I'm like this. It's unusual for me to be classically depressed in this way.

I'm not even all that curious as to what brought it on. Maybe my tough week, maybe it's just January, maybe I'm kinda burnt out. But it's nice not to care about this stuff for a change.