Remember in Breakfast at Tiffany's when Holly said she had the "mean reds?" The mean reds are much worse than the blues. Even for someone like me who has suffered from chronic depression since childhood, the mean reds can sneak up on a person, do a swirling mad tap dance on your face, then go into hiding again, waiting for the next opportunity to slap you around a bit, drag you through the dirt, chew on your ears, then leave you to drown in your own misery.
I've got the mean reds this week, and as it isn't my first time at the rodeo, I know the drill: take it like a girl, live through it for a couple of days, and everything will turn out just fine (until the next bout with the mean reds). Uggghhh! I need a laugh. Where is Mr. Yunioshi when I need him?
--Fortuitous "Golightly" Observer
