clinical depression isn’t all bad

smiley eyes

Hold it. Am I saying there’s a good side to the crushing, soul-sucking despair and hopelessness? Yes. Yes, I am. Am I nuts? Possibly, but not about this.

Depression really does have a perk; it’s a money-saver, boys and girls. A gas saver, too. Misery reduces laundry and conserves shampoo, cosmetics, mouthwash, soap, personal hygiene products in general. So, see? A cost-cutting proposition all around. Granted, given the choice, we’d prefer to climb out of our pajamas and into a shower, but at least we can expect to have a little cash on hand when we crawl out of our dark hole and rejoin the human race.

The thing is, we don’t spend a dime when we’re depressed. Starbucks and Happy Hours and splurging on Jimmy Choos would require effort. Who has the energy? I don’t. I’ll just sit and mope, thank you. I’ll tell myself I’m a worthless loser, envision a few bleak scenarios, and I’m ready for a nap. Then I start over. Depression is so flipping boring.

Oh, sure, the sun comes back out, eventually. In the interim, though, we brood and think grim thoughts. We expect too much out of life, I think. Too much happiness, too much fulfillment, too much comfort, too much love, too much everything. It doesn’t work that way, not for anyone. Life consistently fails to measure up. And we get depressed, feel like failures. Or losers. Or misfits.

Snap out of it! You’re saving yourself a chunk of money lying there in your food-stained t-shirt and sagging boxers. Moping and brooding is free. No cover charge. Your money, in all its negotiable glory, is waiting patiently for you, untouched. It won’t go anywhere until you do.

Feel better now? Oh.

Well, try popping in a dvd of Boston Legal. Cures me every time. I feel so, so, what’s the word? Yeah, well-adjusted, that’s it.

copyright © 2015 little ittys

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