I came home last night feeling depressed and pathetic. I had been working on a problem that has been plaguing me for a few days now and had just gotten through a major roadblock. I used this as an excuse to take a break, run down to the store and get a bag of one of the evil snack foods which hold me powerless.

Upstairs, stuffing food in my mouth at the speed of light, hands greasy, not even tasting the food ~ just inhaling it. The phone rings and it's the CFO asking me about a report I'd sent to the customer regarding their activity over the past 30 days.

"Sure thing, I'll forward you the email." Back to rapid-fire food intake.

Phone rings again.

"These numbers are small."

"Well, yes."

"This isn't a lot of activity."

Suddenly, I get it.

"You know that's not all of it. I just reported what he asked for. There's more."

"What are the total figures?"

"I don't know, that would take some research..."

"OK. Thanks."

And he hangs up.

I call Boss-Man to let him know of the conversation, since we decided I wouldn't be working today, and he lets me know that he's the one who sicced the CFO on me in the first place. (Not understanding, of course, what either the CFO wanted or what my report contained.) Great.

We're thinking the customer has finally clued into the fact that they're paying full price for about 1/3 the support they were getting a month ago and will want some price cuts from our company.

And where might these price cuts be coming from? Can you say S-A-L-A-R-I-E-S? I knew that you could.

By that time my stomach was upset and I had made some changes to the script I was writing which somehow put me right back to where I started.

Ugh!

I came home and Hubband wanted pizza but I didn't feel like it. Instead I bought $30 worth of videos and ice cream and soda. Nice, huh? Seems there are some moods even Ben & Jerry's won't cure.

Then I read this article in 'People' (Nana subscribes so I just read her castoffs) which detailed the last conversations of the 9/11 passengers that went down in PA.

Sometimes the mild antidepressant is a little too mild.

And this morning, I can't say I feel much different. I watched 'Amelie' earlier. Sweet, funky little film. Now I don't know what I want to do. I have bills to pay and there's housework to be done. (My sink is not shiney!) I have grocery shopping to do and Boy asked to go to the Wave Pool again.

It is, after all, just a matter of doing it. Start here and then go there and then finish this task and that one. Soon it's done and I'll feel so much better.

So what's the problem?