The Return of the Black Dog

Just when you thought you were free, he comes back. That old leaden body, sudden irritability, dead mind, the no-go when the chance offers itself move back in uninvited and unannounced. Yep, it's the black dog. Where the hell did he come from? Lack of love? End of semester? Flare up of foot fungus? Whatever the cause, he won't let you be and goes with you as surely as your shadow. He is not merciful or kind but tenacious and tireless, unlike you. You can barely get out of bed. In fact you don't get out of bed unless you have to, even if you have to. Then he talks to you with his sad eyes. This life does suck doesn't it? It really doesn't matter what you do. Then you can't make sense of things and forget what it was you were about to do, who you were supposed to call. Papers pile up on your desk. You start again to lose track. This might be it. This might be the beginning of the big one. You know that, but, oddly, you don't care. You just want to be left alone.