The Nutjob Diet

I just came back from a jog (my ninth in eleven days) and I'm pleased that I don't feel any worse than I did when I woke up this morning. Namely, a little queasy and a little uneasy but none of the debilitating panic and shitdown of Sunday. I also feel very numb (more so than usual) to the point where I think of things that I like and I don't get that flicker of pleasurable recognition that normally comes with them. I mean, everything:

Family (don't laugh), friends, food, Ali G., Yes Minister, Chasey Lain, an on-form Arsenal, the winter wasteland sequence in Halo on the Xbox, Tropic of Ruislip, "V" The Hot One, Unbearable Lightness of Being, Man for all Seasons, Chianti and blue cheese, Dime bars, Wetherall's candy, chocolate milk, Wendy's burgers, Annette Haven, British movies circa 1943-1968, Camden Town, the East Village, Roxy or Corba on a Friday afternoon after prayers (which I would skip), Chilis with Riham Batanouny later on Friday, Swiss Air Chantilly for breakfast, Champions League Final 1999, NBA Finals 1993, World Series Game 7 2001, playing half court, basketball at AUC, sex with a (now hated) ex, buffalo wings at Old Town in the Flat Iron District, dancing at the Gin Mill on 86th street, playing Cadaver on the Amiga, Kick Off with Amr and Waleed, Passport to Pimlico, making out with Rox that one time, her tricking me into writing invites for her party and then NOT inviting me (such a fucked up thing to do that I had to laugh), burritos from chipotle...ok, you get the picture.

Which explains a lot, actually: why I've lost my appetite, why I've lost 5 pounds since Friday, how this whole depression things works. A lot of people think it's being sad all the time but I don't remember ever being sad (ever-I get angry and I get frustrated and down, but never sad). It's more like a listlessness, an inability to see the point of anything, no matter how pleasurable, due to the simple fact that everything has a catch and a finite life span, including us. It's simply an inability to believe good things in life.

Quite pathetic, really, but there you go. Anyways, I was thinking of writing a book about this depression induced weight loss and market it as a new diet, complete with infomercial and an appearance on Regis and Kelly, the View and Conan.

Ok, I spent way too much time until I got to the joke, which the title of this post alluded to. The Nutjob Diet.

As I said, rambling absolutely isn't a part of this depression thing.