I'm still receiving junk mail from the previous residents of my chic, uptown flat. Today's loot consisted of a Bed, Bath, and Beyond catalogue, an invitation to Driving School, and a copy of Working Mother Magazine. The things you humans subscribe to . . .
While waiting for my sweet potato casserole to re-heat, I managed to page through the articles of Working Mother. What caught my eye was an expose on the potential for depression in the working mother's life. I quickly Googled the causes of depression and to my surprise, found that I, indeed suffer from nearly all the symptoms.
Sleep disorder - With the temperature dropping and my refusal to turn on the heat, I can't sleep a wink!
Interest Deficit - Citrus is going out of season, so is my enthusiasm for gourmet, at home dining.
Guilt - I still blame myself for what happened to Mighty Joe Young. How could he have known any better?
Energy Deficit - Without my morning Starbucks, I'm worthless. Just worthless.
Concentration Deficit - What am I even writing about anymore?
Appetite Disorder - I have been eating fewer bananas, but I'm on the South Beach Diet. They don't allow me any leeway!
Psychomotor Retardation - It took me 30 seconds to type those two words . . .
Suicidal Tendencies - I don't think I've made it this far. But I'm not a working mother.