Sleep deprivation masquerading as mental illness.

I was so tired yesterday I didn't feel tired anymore, just depleted. The most creative thing I could do was eat. I thought this was it, I'd turned the corner and was finally, firmly mired in a joyless hell. I was officially a depressed person; not even the world's best carrot cake was pulling me out of this one. And then it stopped raining for a minute and a flock of the plump, robust robins landed on my garage's gutter and began feasting on seeds or maggots or whatever buffet it offered up. Kitten was at the back door watching and began making these guttural sounds -- not anything like a meow and probably closer to the grunts I used to make snarfing ice cream sundaes. That made me laugh.

 

Kitten: not his given name but the one that stuck which is 

akin to naming the fat lady at the circus Tiny.

Dylan: not as big as Kitten but few cats are.