May 2005

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Okay, I admit it. I'm depressed all to hell tonight. I finally recognized it a couple of hours ago, when I realized I had no acceptable answer for a question I saw on a message board. The question was asked in fun, and had to do with what someone couldn't do. Like whistle, or blow bubblegum bubbles.

For the record, I can do both of those things.

Everything I can't do that would be fun to do is lumped into the big pile of stuff I gave myself permission to be not good at when I turned 30. So I rarely ever think of them unless some circumstance makes me. And the question tonight didn't make me.

What it did, instead, was trigger a floodgate opening. I thought of a list of hugely important to me things that I can't seem to do, and sat here and cried till I was through crying.

There was utterly nothing in that question that implied one was a failure if one couldn't do such-and-such. Apparently, my list was lurking just outside my conscious mind, waiting to make an appearance.

And appear it did.