I can't believe how down I am. Why? Why am I down? It's just not like me to feel this way. I don't like this feeling one little bit. I've got to search for the cause before I can find the cure. Have you ever wanted someone to invent a type of tape or glue, something like that to pull that muscle and skin around your lips up, something to force that smile to stay in place? Well, I'd pay good money for an invention like that. I'd at least look happier than I feel.

The gray, drippy, overcast, rainy, coolish weather isn't helping either. I just plain ol' need a good dose of sunshine. I'd hold my face up to to the sky and breath it in. I've got every light in the house on too, in an attempt to create a false sunshine of sorts. Some website suggested that was a good thing to do to brighten ones mood. I'm not being very "green" this evening.

I miss the members of my family who are scattered all over creation these days; Salt Lake City, Tacoma, Colorado Springs, Galveston. Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo, conversations held that way help a little, but they don't feel close and loving. The dearly departed are the ones I miss the most. The conversations I have with them in my head feel very one sided. I can't believe I am saying this, but I miss listening to their wisdom -- the stories they wanted to share with me when I was younger -- stories and wisdom that I never had time to completely listen to because I was busy doing whatever. I'd listen now.

My dishwasher is currently not working. *Service Man said it needed a whole new electrical control panel, which, after an additional service call to install, will cost just shy of what a new dishwasher will cost. We just bought this one in 2005. You'd think it would last longer than four/five years. I must have been really hard on this one because it seems to me that our last one lasted at least 10 years. And I'm not sure if the one my parents had ever was replaced, even if it did sound like a 747 Jet when it ran.
*Service man spent an additional hour bending my ear about every service call he'd made over the past several weeks and about computers in new appliances, and his Jeep and his latest hunting trip down south and how his piece of crap Jeep conked out right on Interstate 40 until his buddy fetched him and helped him tow his piece of crap Jeep to a dealer, where he told said dealer what they could do with his vehicle because he was getting something more reliable. Next time Service Man comes to our house, which will probably be the day he installs the new dishwasher, I will not be home. Me and conversations about anything with a motor, large or small, is not something I excel in. And don't get me started how I feel about hunters and tales of hunting trips.

The furnace worked Saturday morning. Now it's not working. And it's cold. And the repairman isn't sure when he can "work us in" due to the onslaught of frantic calls from The Others who evidently left frantic messages over the weekend, where I was polite enough to wait until eight o'clock this morning to make my own frantic call. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. Since we've been such good customers over the past 20 years.

Later. I'll feel better later.