Been feeling blue the past few days. A friend was telling me she'd read a study or something that the second or third week of January is the most depressing time of the year. So I know why.
Or maybe it has to do with the Chargers losing. Our home's football season officially ended last weekend when our pro team lost to the Patriots. It was a sad, sad day. After the Buckeyes lost the National Championship, our hopes had been pinned on the promising Chargers.
Or maybe it's because work's going so slow. I know this time next week I'll be running around like a chick with her head cut off, so I should appreciate the down time. I've been reading some improving books. Just finished Gertrude Stein's "Three Lives" -- three not-so-short stories about three women. But the last one I read "Melanctha" really got me down.
To combat all these combined blahs, I began reading "An Autobiography of a Yogi" by Yogananda Paramhansa. Y.P. founded The Self Realization Fellowship housed in a veddy nice building fronting the Pacific here in SoCal, so I'd wanted to read him for a while. Plus, I heard that his brother was my buddy Bikram's guru. Plus, the book is up for discussion at my next book club meet.
It's turning out to be pretty entertaining reading. So far not very philosophical, but it's clipping along at a fair pace. Which is more than I expected. Some surprises are really nice.