When I was younger, early teens that is, I was majorly depressed. Which of course isn't that unusual, but I forget how *flat* and useless I'd felt until this past week. And I don't really know what was up with that.
On Saturday, I went to the big Long Island Fair with my mom and sisters. It's fashioned after the "olde time" festival that used to be held in Queens. There's a lot of interesting events, like a Punch and Judy show, old-time jugglers, magicans, and traditional music. Plus there's tons of people walking around in period, colonial-style costumes.
It's a nice throwback and I had a good time, even though my pants were very dusty by the end of the day. The weather was fantastic.
I didn't get a call back from the place I interviewed. Which is kind of crappy, but I still have another job, so it isn't so bad. It's disappointing in that I really though that job would have suited me.
I've been needing to write. *Badly.* Several of my orignal stories are begging to be worked on and I just don't have the time. And it's frustrating because I know that when I do have the time, I just don't have the inspiration to flesh out my ideas.
Bah. Maybe that dark cloud hasn't left yet.
I do have other things to talk about, but I'll save it for another time.