Over the past week or so, I have greeted each day with all the enthusiasm of a one-legged turtle. All of that is based on the assumption that a one-legged turtle would not want to get out of bed, leave the house, talk to people, or lay eyes upon the world as it deservedly turns to ashes after being given chance after chance to make things right.
I realize that this may make me sound like I’m depressed. Oddly enough, I feel quite good, or at least content. I’ll try to explain.