Jennifer Is…

Van Morrison’s mama said there’d be days like this. Mrs. Morrison was right. When they come, they smack hard. I don’t think my mood today really quite fits with “depression” – I prefer the quaintly vague “melancholy”. Doesn’t that lovely adjective conjure images of Victorian ladies, all bustled and corseted, discreetly spiking their afternoon tea with laudanum – all of them knowing that each other is hiding, but all feigning polite happiness nonetheless? Anyway, despite the sun and relatively warm temperature, I’m full of a gnashing discontent.