I am not depressed.

I am tired.

I am overwhelmed by inertia.

I think if I got regular exercise I would have more energy.

I do not get regular exercise.

I tried to exercise this past weekend and was thwarted by the awakening of my son

... who won’t allow me to do anything in his presence that doesn’t include him in some appendage-like way.

My husband probably thinks the situation is well deserved.

He's probably right.

The boy, after all, is still nursing. Still sleeping in our bed.

He is why we are tired.

Or more accurately ... My inertia is why he is causing me to be the way I am ...

I don't blame you if you can't follow that.

It doesn't make sense.

Exercising makes sense.

My husband gets up at the crack of dawn. I hear him downstairs gliding in place in the living room. The ski machine is now wedged between the couch and the toys. In front of the television. Like everything else we own.

Momentary.

Distractions.

The scraping of wooden ski against the metal rollers is rhythmic to itself alone. The sound of talking - a morning news broadcast - is just a backdrop of babble on war, and destruction and apathy. All of it floating up through the floor, filtered.

Diminished.

We have settled in here.

Few boxes are left to be unpacked.

Things that finally have a place are being encroached upon by the things of new desires.

Get healthy. Need the fitness machine. Bring it in.

Need to fill time. Make stuff. More and more stuff.

Some things that were waiting for a place, wait no longer.

A counter is made especially for the under-the-counter television.

Move. Perch. Pile.

The landscape changes daily. I don't seem to change with it. Nothing is as I thought it would be.

Most days I can accept that.

Most days I can just keep plodding forward. I can keep believing there is a purpose. For me. For this, whatever it is.

I can remember all the times I listened to people say they could have been just like …

And all the times I thought: 'Nope. You couldn’t have been just like ...

'You are not ...

'You are nowhere near ...

... Of course, neither am I.

We are all jealous of Dot-dot-dot's success.

We all think it could have been us.

But it couldn’t have been us.

When did I stop moving forward?





...I am not depressed.

I am overwhelmed by inertia.