Well, maybe I did. A little.
I've pretty much spent the last week or so napping or sleeping. Or napping. Or playing computer solitaire. Are you getting the picture here? It helps to be married to a shrink, who has confirmed the diagnosis.
I'm depressed. Clinically. We went over the pharmaceutical options together, and when I go to my doctor on Wednesday I'll be requesting not only a thryoid test but also a complete blood count [to rule out anemia] and some Wellbutrin.
Last week's running schedule was, thankfully, a light one. I was supposed to run four days for a total of just 13 miles; I did 17 in three. I can't imagine how I would feel if I weren't releasing at least a couple of endorphins by running.
I've been forcing myself to post here every day, but I don't think I can keep it up on an every-day basis until I start feeling better. I'll be out of town this weekend, so a longish break is in the offing anyway. And the weekend event is a spiritual retreat – perfect timing, doncha think?