I don't know what to think about this week. The best description I can think of is BLAH. But what does that mean?

The skies are this blurry shade of grey that is all manner of depressing. I should be happy that the temperature is up, but I'm not. It's even more depressing because this is the weather that happens in spring, except now there is nothing green, nothing happy, just brown, wet and muddy. Depressing.

I hate being depressed for no reason. I don't like it...which I suppose is the point of depression. The name alone is indicative of unhappiness. Gross. My day to day life isn't too bad. I have a new job that I'm still figuring out, but I like it. I have fantastic friends that I'm finding more and more are the biggest source of sunshine in my life. I have a wonderful fiance who makes me deleriously happy. And I have a fantastic family, including the new members I have acquired in the last six months. So excuse me depression you have no place here, buh bye I shun you.

I've thought a lot lately about where my life is at now and where I expected to be, naturally my expectations were nowhere near the reality. My life has this storybook quality to it, not Dr. Seuss either more along the Frank Peretti line. I've also thought about writing the story myself, possibly an autobiography, possibly a story 'based on fact'. Then what shape would it take? Would it take the form of a diary? Nah. I always thought the term 'Dear Diary' was somewhat odd. So I'm writing to a book? What's the point the book can't write back.

Then maybe I could make it a fiction based on fact. How? Do I create characters of the same gender and placement with different names or do I just take the essense of the reality and weave into my very own fiction? If I had answers to these questions I'd have books published.

I've thought about the letters that I've written my dad in the last few months. I just sent out number 34 yesterday. I read through them from time to time and wonder how the man ever follows the randomness of my thoughts. Then again if anyone could it'd be him. Without getting too reflective I don't know if I've ever understood my connection to my parents, especially my dad. At this point I consider it to be a blessing. I am so proud of that man I can't even describe it and my mom is a pillar of strength herself. If I turn out to be half as good as them I'll be lucky.

And on that sappy note I'll get back to work now. *swats depression away* Don't even think about it, I'm ignoring you!