Yeah, the familiar onset of a depressive episode. For those of you who have seizures that are portented by flashing lights or sudden smells or the like, you understand the concept of smells like doom; sometimes the depressive episodes are preceeded by a smell, or something that's a lot like a smell, but not completely, in the same way that the placing of a nine-volt battery on your tongue isn't really a taste, but you'd be hard-pressed to describe it in any other way. The smell is similar to that of fresh steel, slightly electric and tangy, or like fresh blood but not as throat-thick.
I know what causes it. I know about how long it will last. I know some things to do that will make it better. Old news, old fuse, moldy pews. In the meantime, it's still there riding me like Samedi.
I think tonight will involve manly things like power tools and lifting heavy objects, because I am a manly man and I do manly things while living in my manly house with my manly stuff. And there are some things I need to do that require involvement with power tools and lifting heavy objects.