I think I'm depressed.

Or at least, I'm unmotivated, tired, want to sleep a lot, and generally feel like I'm just marking time--even when I'm doing things. I've been running errands today, but all the time I wanted nothing more than to just go home, and sit or lie down.

We have plans to go out to see THOR tonight with another couple. It seemed like a great idea when I proposed it, and it seemed like a great idea all week. Right now it seems like a burden, one I wish I could just cancel. Even though I know that once I'm in the theatre, I'll most likely have a good time.

We're going to the beach for the weekend, too. Originally, that trip was for my lovely and talented wife's benefit. It always recharges her, and she's had a hard time of it these last few months, what with moving from our house to an apartment, moving her office, dealing with springtime allergies (probably aggravated by all the dust raised in the moves), and everything else. But at this point, I'm looking forward to it as a rest as well. Sitting in our room with the sliding glass door open, listening to and watching the surf, and reading and snuggling with my sweetie sound like a great idea. Sitting on the beach, even better (assuming the weather is nice).

And I feel guilty about complaining about this because she's the one who's working a full time job. But there it is.