Earlier this week I thought my circadian rhythms were getting messed up again, but now I think it's plain old depression-masquerading-as-exhaustion. I went to bed at 8pm on Tuesday and got up at 3.40pm on Wednesday - I couldn't possibly have been tired enough to need that amount of sleep. My concentration span is back to goldfish level, and my appetite's practically non-existent. I keep not fancying food at all until I'm freezing or almost fainting, and then feeling too nauseous to eat. I'm sure I have some other symptoms too, but I can't remember them (see previous comment about goldfish).
I thought I was done with this depression thing. I got a job, made concrete plans to finish my course and lowered my antidepressant dosage. Now I'm thinking about going back to the higher level. Rant, rant, rant. Angst, angst, angst. I'll try not too get too seriously angsty - to be honest, sometimes just starting a rant is enough to make me feel better. I've just cheered myself up by noticing the irony that it's 6.30am and I'm eating fried rice and edamame from the other day. Mmmm, boiled green hairy beans dipped in salt - just perfect for breakfast!
And sometime in the next couple of hours, some nice men from Ikea are going to turn up with the new furniture we've bought. A smart tv stand to accommodate our growing collection of video equipment and games consoles, a set of drawers to store Richard's electronics projects in so they don't take over the dining table, and some picture frames we couldn't face carrying home on the tram. Nice!