This is not a good day.
It’s nothing specific. It often isn’t. Sometimes the mood just descends, and it’s not a good day any more.
It generally starts with a worry about something; usually something relatively trivial that grips and clings and sucks at your soul until it’s bloated out of all reasonable proportion. And while it’s gorging itself on your spirit you can’t move fast enough to avoid the various, otherwise trivial dings the day will hit you with: for example, the nice chap on the phone very politely calling you ‘sir’, when you just don’t feel in the mood to have THAT conversation with a complete stranger today. Not his fault, of course.
And then over a few hours the mood spirals down and Churchill’s black dog slinks into the room and sits glaring at you, and you know that what you should do, the healthy remedy, would be to take that dog out for a walk. Get out. Get some exercise.
But by this time you’re already in a place where there’s little less appealing than going out and facing the world.
It passes, of course. It always does. It can take hours. Days. Even weeks. But it passes. You just have to try not to feed the damn dog, and eventually it’ll wander off.
I resign myself to the fact that it’s going to be another useless day. I’m not going to get any writing done – at least, not any writing that I can be proud of. And the possibility of anything of any worth happening is pretty low.
So I resolve to do useless things; useless things that would normally cheer me up. In my case, useless things that cheer me up are generally games. But the games are all in black and white at the moment:
Ingress has been one of the dings: knowing full well that it’s a competitive game, I still find it enormously demoralising to see the portals that I set up so enthusiastically the other day attacked and captured by the fellow who owns every other portal in town.
World of Tanks and War Thunder are both online competitive multiplayer games in which it so far seems impossible for me to make any progress: I’m destroyed almost the instant the game starts – often without ever realising I was being targeted.
Everquest II is a staple – one I avoid when I’m in this state, because I don’t trust myself not to do something stupid, like delete a long-established character in a fit of petulance.
I could read. I could watch TV. Or I could go on my blog and whinge. But honestly, if this blog’s going to serve me any useful purpose I’ve got to start writing in it, and that can’t always be gripes about the news.