The Most Depressing Monday

Apparently, yesterday was the most depressing day of the year. Pete heard it on the news this morning. I wasn’t surprised. Yesterday, I was gripped by melancholy. Before yesterday started, I had grand plans. Pete had to work (I guess his company doesn’t deem Dr. King’s accomplishments worthy of a day off), so I had the entire day to myself. I planned on hemming some jeans (four pairs from the Citizens sample sale), maybe sewing up a baby blanket for a friend, getting my hair cut, cooking a little, doing a few loads of laundry, going for a walk or yoga. Basically, I was going to what any woman in the 1950s did while her husband worked (minus yoga) and I was looking forward to it. (Hmmm… what does this say about me? And I consider myself a feminist!) But then, the day started.

Pete got up, and I lay there immobile. It was my day off. I was allowed. I stayed there for another hour and a half. Awake. I finally pulled myself from the bed around 9am, just in time to take a shower before getting my hair cut.

The hair cut went well. My friend cuts my hair and I always enjoy seeing her. I tried my best to be upbeat, but it was like a dampness filled my head. I smiled, but it was forced. I felt awful.

I came home, and decided the only way to lift the blues was to meditate and ask for some help. So I did. I meditated for almost an hour. (Okay, my mind wandered A LOT.) I felt a little better, but the damp, heavy feeling still pervaded my body. So I did what all depressed people do, and I took a nap. Nothing like avoiding the problem. (Isn’t that one of the signs of depression?)

Luckily, my friend Heidi came by unexpectedly and we went for a walk and a tea on the boardwalk. Thank god she came by. Depression is selfish and when in the presence of others, it is hard to be solely focused on myself. After I listened to her about her life (hey, we all have things going on – I don’t have a monopoly on major decisions), I was able to finally start my laundry and make chili. It was 5:00. Needless to say, the jeans are still not hemmed, yoga never happened and sewing a baby blanket? Please. I might actually enjoy that. (I actually enjoyed making chili, but I’d be happy if I could wave a wand and have my laundry folded in my drawers.)

For now, I’m just glad to know I wasn’t the only one feeling depressed yesterday. Who knew there was a most depressing day of the year? More importantly, why isn’t it on the calendar so we can be ready for it?