Dreary days

I wake up before dawn remembering that I simply forgot things.  Things I have always remembered to do, like pay the rent early enough to get the discount, or that today is the day my monthly checks come in.

I know I have to make important phone calls today.  I hate making business calls, trying to keep cable television within bounds, being firm with my insurance company who thinks I should come in so the agent can sell me more insurance, finding the right doctor for my injured foot.

The wolf is always at the door and there is no one but me to keep him on the outside.

Part of my love for simplicity is due to the fact that I dislike dealing with these people who prey on everyone and anyone they can.

Life shouldn't be bogged down with so many mediocre things.  Even after getting rid of nearly everything except a car, bed, chair, desk, chest of drawers, television and computer, I still find the upkeep tiresome.

I do like nice things and I have pared my life down to the simplest I can manage.  I would rather have a few very nice things than a warehouse full of junk, but today even that feels like too much.

I made the calls and went back to bed.  I don't think that's depression, but it just may be avoidance.