I'm actually feeling a bit better now. Sometimes I think my dysthymia is made worse by this d*** job. Especially when I'm bored out of my mind, like right now.

My little boy is out of surgery and in recovery, so I'm relieved. I played hooky from work at lunch and went to the store. I got the cookies I have to take to the funeral tomorrow, a candy bar, and that Turbotax program so that I can file my dratted taxes. It's time to pay my yearly homage to Uncle Sam and Uncle Al once more. Old Bush was on tv while I was out and about. He was using a lot of big words, and I've been trying to reckon the odds that he could define half of them without a dictionary. The man might have gone to an Ivy League school and be President, but I think the average fourth-grader is smarter than he is.

Another random thought: what is it that makes some people think it's all right to trash anything they please? Case in point: we have several recycling bins here at work. They are three times the size of the trash cans, bright blue, and have the white recyclings motto and logo all over them, including on the lid which you have to lift up to put anything in. And yet, people treat them just like trash cans, in fact worse, and dump whatever they please in there until they are so overflowing with rubbish and so disgusting they can't be used for actual recycling anymore.