Kind of a blah, muddled painting for a blah, muddled day. Just not feeling it today…any of it. Really tempted to go back to bed, but I already slept 11 hours or so. I can always tell when I’m super depressed because I sleep A LOT. The normal 8 hours of sleep becomes 12 hours a night. And even then, I want to sleep all day too, I just try not to allow myself. I always did like that joke about how being “super depressed” is just like being “regular depressed”, except that for “super depression” you wear a cape. I need a cape.
Lately I’ve hit the worst and longest lasting reading slump I can remember. For at least a couple months now I have struggled with picking up a book (any book) and reading it. I’ve tried a multitude of genres and subject matter, so I don’t think that is the issue. I’ve tried books of different lengths and even graphic novels and books with lots of pictures and still find myself throwing most of them to the side relatively quickly and just losing interest. I’m starting to worry this may be my new normal.
But WHO AM I if I no longer like to read? Reading and being a devoted reader has been such a huge part of my identity for so long that I feel lost without the passion for books I’ve always had. If you aren’t a reader, I know you will probably think this is a stupid post, but if you are like me and love to live in other worlds through print, you probably get my sense of despair and existential angst over this matter.
I don’t feel like writing today. I don’t feel like moving today. I feel like becoming a permanent bump on the couch and eating no bake cookies all day while listening to sad 90’s music. That’s ALL I feel like doing today.