Some depression is so deep that flowery language cannot spruce it up. Between the work emails writing about soda bottle inflatables covered in corporate logos my mind wanders to parallel universes where between other work emails my mind wanders to parallel universes where my mind is focused on work emails regarding soda bottle inflatables covered in corporate logos.

My mind has long had wanderlust. As a salesman I longed to be the top seller. Win the sales promotions we had. I could win an ipod! I did win an ipod. I still use it. I allow my ambition to use me. It wins me over with a sexy sales pitch: both steak and sizzle are sold. I’ll pay any price; my currency is my sanity. My mind, a sieve, allows my stockpile to escape. Escape is not exactly the right word, perhaps a touch dramatic. Let us call it “catch and release”.

Some optimism is so optimistic that it borders on outright fatalism. Mental attitudes are a political spectrum: an infinite collection of thin lines. My mind traipses freely between them so often and frequently it loses the initial point of reference. No longer a figure skater, we focus on the next career: one with less sexual frustration, less revealing uniforms.