Is Clinical Depression Contagious?

Other than breaking the washing machine and flooding the laundry room, I got one thing done today: I had a successful Skype interview. Successful in that I didn’t completely spaz out. Whether or not it was successful in an any other sense is still a vast unknown.

After the Interview, which I spent all morning kind of sort of preparing for and stressing over, I left the house to run some errands. I knew I had to go grocery shopping and pick up some frontline for the pets because everyone in this house is covered in a nice new summer crop of fleas, but the whole time I was out I kept thinking I’d forgotten something. And then when I got home, there it was on the table: The book someone bought from me Monday night that I didn’t get home in time to ship yesterday, and that I swore up an down I would get out today. I have 3 business days before I’m looking dishonest on my “ships in 1-3 business days” radial button that I clicked, but I like to ship on the same day the order comes through if at all possible.

I feel like my brain doesn’t work right up here. I’m not sure if it’s just because of the further lack of sleep, or the heat (it’s about 20 degrees hotter than in the South Bay), or the

For real, I have no idea what I was going to write. I just realized I was staring at an empty firefox tab who knows how long. I’m not even sure why I opened it.

Oh wait, I think I just realized why I can’t get anything done. During the course of the last 20 words, I had to stop, get up and help grandma with something 3 seperate times. Then Ben called twice. I guess I didn’t notice how distracted I am here.

In fact, I had to take my interview in the front yard to get away from the noise of my mom and grandma arguing over which pills are in which bottles and why for how long, etc.

One thing I notice is that I find it impossible to get bored. At home I sometimes stare out into space because I’m not sure what to do next. Here I do it because I’ve been doing things, or at least trying to do them every second of the day and my brain just goes on strike.

However, at the end of the day I seem to get the same amount of business accomplished. So it’s not like this increased level of activity is actually doing me any good. But the days go faster.

I can’t tell if I’m just damn tired, or if this place is starting to get to me. It is really difficult sitting in this house every day. As beautiful as the plants in the yard and the mountains and birds and shit are, this is still my terrible old family home. The gravity of this house is immense. I used to call it the Havisham house because it just sits here and rots year after year. My uncle is trying to fix it, he put up new drywall in my/our old room, but the same old cracks are forming in the new drywall that were there in the old drywall. And we all just keep coming back to this pit of despair.

Ok. I think it’s time to step away from the computer. And Ben just pointed out that I haven’t had any coffee today.

Lack of caffeine makes me go to a dark, dark place.