A little, not much

I am reading a book about emotional eating and the overcoming thereof. For those of you blessed with stable brainpans and no interest in things psychological, emotional eating is when you cram a bunch of food into your face instead of dealing with whatever it is that's making you upset. Eating your feelings, so to speak. Here's the part where you can roll your eyes and make some kind of "first world problems" joke, because obviously if it's an issue you've never experienced, it must be completely lacking in weight, if it exists at all. Perhaps you'd like to make fun of some people with bi-polar next?

While I'm digressing, I would like to tell everyone on the goddamn planet that telling someone with major depressive disorder to "cheer up" helps exactly no one, least of all the depressed person. The only thing that will result from sharing your little misguided ray of sunshine will be a mental line crossing out your name on a list of people the recipient knows they can count on.

I was going to write more, but now I'm tired. I believe I will lay on the couch and wait for Sunshine and Roses to come over so Roses can reclaim her boots. Dys sort of stole them and then deviously pretended to be giving them to Goodwill when she moved out. Good thing I compulsively seize people's cast-off clothes, or Roses might have cold and unstylish feet this fall.