Okay, Chris. Get stuff done. Be helpful. That usually helps. And yesterday I was helpful for friends Ryan and Kristen who are moving, into a house they were able to buy (!). I met up with Ryan that afternoon, and in a borrowed pick-up truck we moved a washer (OH MY WORD HEAVY AND AWKWARD -- I've got scrapes to prove it), a dryer, and a futon that Ryan had bought for the new place. He also helped me by stopping at a post office so I could mail off a package. After I'd finished with helping, he dropped me off where it'd be more convenient for me to get home (without him having to drive out to Lents; he and Kristen are moving to St. John's*), and I unwound with a nice, filling, and (it felt) EARNED meal at the Convention Center Burgerville. Then I got home, rested, and thought about the day and both how I'd been useful...and why I'd felt sad. Processing. Think of it as a Level-1 Diagnostic for mood. Then I slept, and dreamt about visiting an underwater video arcade and former wrestler Mick Foley rescuing Ed Harris from a mine collapse.
Maybe that was part of my processing, but I don't know.
* Plus there was so much traffic due to rush hour and police activity that, Ryan said, "You might get home faster by transit."