Marshmallow God Productions

And this is the post that was harder to write.

I was supposed to go to the New York Faerie Fest last weekend. I was going to head out after work Friday and camp until I was grimy and really wanted a shower Sunday afternoon. I did not go. I was in tears when djkc came home from work Friday. At first for no reason- there doesn't have to be a reason sometimes, I can just be depressed- and then because I missed my sister. I am pretty sure I latched onto that second as a purpose for the depression, I am not sure it is where it originated from. But needless to say, I did not go to Faerie Fest that night. djkc pointed out I could go Saturday, after the farmers market. It seemed like a plan.

Saturday, C looked at me at the Market and said, simply, "I'm sorry your fish are dead", a reference to this post (the best explanation I have EVER found for what is going on inside of a depressed person's head). A reference to the fact sometimes you can acknowledge you realize someone is depressed, while acknowledging there is really nothing you can do about it. But that you know it is there. She never makes a big fuss over my depressed streaks because she knows she cannot really do anything about them, but she likes to let me know she has taken note of the situation.

She took note, and I offered her my camping pass for Faerie Fest. She had lost her cat earlier in the week, we are both losing a friend to cancer, and she deals with unhappiness with being around people far better than I. I like to hole up with cats and books and other things that won't try and 'fix' my temperament.

So C enjoyed the hell out of Faerie Fest. And while I was miserable I did not go, I am very happy she did.

In the meantime, my fish are still dead, but I am getting by. With books and cats and djkc and muffins_of_god and our mutual hatred of formatting.