I went Christmas shopping, but I didn't achieve anything. I felt listless, unenthused, flat.
It's surprising, each time, just how disabling a spell of subclinical depression can be.
I went food shopping, picked up some comfort food in the hope that it might do me some good.
And then there was Chat.
We talked about cricket for a while, a game which still baffles her.
And then she flattered me shamelessly about my poetry.
And now I've had some truly excellent sausages, onions, mash and gravy.
Now I officially feel better.