Depressed

I am depressed. I know what you are thinking. That is such an overused thought that it makes it difficult for the person hearing it to actually believe it. But there it is. I am depressed.

And I really mean it this time!

Why should I be depressed in this bright sunshiney world? How can I be depressed with all the birds chirping and the squirrels scampering around? It just boggles the mind.

But I will tell you, but only if you promise not to tell another soul the reason that I am so depressed.

Are you ready?

I am depressed because about 15 minutes ago I was sitting on the glass coffee table talking to Chad who is lying on the sofa because he is injured. And my ass broke the coffee table.

MY ASS BROKE THE COFFEE TABLE!

Oh, I suppose I could say it was the extra weight of the coaster that broke the table but that seems mighty thin (as opposed to my, ya know, ASS!)

Do you want to know the worst part? That’s even worse than actually breaking the coffee table?

I had orange rolls baking in the oven. And now I can’t even eat them because I am depressed. And apparently my ass is too big .

Sigh.