The never-ending case of the Blahs...

Ugh. Have you ever had one of those time periods in which anything that might require effort is just a big No-no? When your body is heavy and stiff, you are dead-dog tired no matter how much sleep you get, and you can actually FEEL your brain inside your skull, and not in a good way? Maybe this feeling lasts a day, a week, a month or longer, but the whole time you want to tell people "sorry, I'm just not myself, I'm really not this lame/weird/comatose most of the time," because you've seen them looking at you like you've just flicked a booger on the wall. You know that feeling?

Ok, I've been in this state of existence for a few months now. This can't be normal. And, of course, the catastrophist side of me immediately goes for "You've got a brain tumor!" or "I need a COMPLETE life overhaul, NOW! Call the therapist! Buy all new clothes, furniture and move to a new country!" I can't write, I can't read, I can't play with my daughter or have a nice normal conversation with my friends. I scare new friends away, I'm pretty sure.

The stupid part is: I'm HAPPY. There's nothing in the world right now for me to be unhappy about. Handsome husband loves me. Daughter, while going through some admittedly annoying boundary-testing phase, is healthy, funny and smart and loves me and school. THIS IS NOT ME! I'm funny! I'm smart! I write really really well and have the most awesome novel in my head!

So, WTF?