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I feel it, my mental chastity belt.

It's starting - my yearly depression. Something's coming, and it isn't pretty. Does anyone get that reference? Probably not. Oh well, just ask.

I guess I have what one would call "violent mood swings" (meaning that they change very quickly and drastically without warning, not that I am a violent person), and every year this mental see-saw culminates into "The Great Depression: Songs in the Apathetic Key of Blah." This should tell ya something: My favorite painters are Vincent van Gough and Edvard Munch, and the best image than can ever showcase my tempestuous moods is Munch's 1893 painting The Scream. Hung on my dormroom mirror the year I spent at UC Riverside, this painting served as my symbollic reflection. It might sound like a macabre thing to do, but I did it. I wasn't happy/no fue feliz.

Today's Epiphany

I realize that I tenaciously try to maintain a status quo without any regard to my dignity, integrity, or sense of morality. Morality? What is that? What does normal mean? My definition:

Whatever 50% plus 1 of a populace feels like it should be.

Don't worry; I'm about to elaborate on what happened on the way to work today to cause me to be so morose.

Riding on the bus to work, I was deep in thought about nothing in particular. I was probably fantasizing about the car I may be able to purchase in a few weeks if my friend will commit to waiting until I have the money. Maybe I was imagining a place where I had no debt or conflicting needs - I digress...Kristin, Kirsten, or "Cretin¹," I don't specifically recall her name, is sitting across from me. For sake of continuity, she will be known throughout this observation as "She," sans parethesis of course. She seems to be in charge of a group of special needs adults. Anyway, I'm self-involved in my own world. The rest of what transpired will appear in a dialogue format.

She: Pulls out two trapezoid-shaped objects, one pink (it's a girl), one blue (it's a boy). In a cavalier tone: Which one is larger?
Protagonist: Happy cause he thinks someone wants to practice her second-rate magic abilities, pointing to object in her right hand: That one.
She: Okay. Shuffles her hands so the objects appear in reverse order: Now which one is larger?
Protagonist: Realizing it's a game of optical illusions to his chagrin: Oh, right. Pointing to corresponding sides of each trapezoid: This side is the same length as this one, and because these sides are shorter than the other, the difference creates the illusion of size difference.
She: Not really listening: Do you experience optical illusions often?
Protagonist: Momentarily caught off-guard, then excited when he realizes she is an Optometrist because he needs a new prescription, and after a brief pause: No, not really.
She:

[to be finished later]

For anyone who thinks that a logical, reasonable, sane, thought-out course of action should be taken in the weeks to come regarding foreign policy, Afghanistan, and Terrorism, Shared Voice.org is a great place to read. (Sigh of sarcasm in inflection of voice in the style of Ben Stein Wow. I can actually spell Afghanistan now without having to look it up.

¹I looked up the definition of cretin and found that it has "Vulgar Latin" orgins, and I was ordered to see the definition of "Christian." I laughed at the irony in respect to today's incident, but also thought that this made sense, since in Latin times, Christians, specifically Catholics, were considered miscreants, and of course would be called cretins.