Come on Phil

It used to upset me greatly when people would bail on plans due to unfavorable weather. “I see no reason why we should be cooped up all winter long crying in our soup.” I would shout, fists in the air. I for one was not to be put out of a good time based on a few snowflakes or gusts of wind. Perhaps this school of thought stemmed from my heat disorder and the idea that one can bundle for the cold by appropriately layering, however it was always a disappointment when people would hid themselves away for the winter months, leaving me to frolic by my lonesome.

It wasn’t until this weekend as I lay on the couch for the 8th hour of syndicated television, refusing to even exit the apartment for a brief breath of fresh air or to see a single fellow human being that I realized things had changed. In true comic book form, a tiny light bulb illuminated above my head and I suddenly realized I am depressed. I no longer enjoy activities that I once did, all I want to do is sleep, and I the thought of venturing into the outside world overwhelms me excessively. The cold dark days of winter have zapped every ounce of joy from my life.

Just as I resign myself to a life of solitude and gloom, with plans only to play the saxophone on fog infested street corners and to pour out my soul to price gauging therapists, I experience a faint hallucination/daydream in which I am skipping through a field of blooming wild flowers with a basket of puppies, basking in the warm glow of sunshine. And it hits me. I don’t need a therapist at all. I need one of those little heat lamps that trick your body into thinking life isn’t awful.

That is right folks, I am SAD. I am lethargic and craving carbohydrates, which the official website indicate as signals of SADness. Apparently I can either get the lamp, some antidepressants, or explore talk therapy, however I would prefer to take the route of the hibernator. So like our friends, the bear, bat, and some types of squirrel I will be stocking up on snacks and burrowing myself away for the remainder of this insufferable tundra known as winter. I will see you in 6 weeks.