Last night a friend left my condo. I should have been in a perfectly good mood. Instead, something shifted in my outlook, and it seemed like I slid into an alternate reality. The world lost all its color.

I cared about nothing.

In this black frame of mind, if I found out a meteor were headed towards the earth, I would sit slumped in my papasan chair and maybe say, “Eh.” If I had been on a plane and a bunch of hijackers started whooping and spraying pepper spray, I’d just stay put in my seat, staring straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of me. If I saw a baby carriage careening down a flight of stairs, I’d just watch it pass by.

This horrible black cloud hung over me for what seemed like hours, making me feel like I had been cast into an unspeakable prison, alone. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t make sense of television. I woke up this morning next to the washing machine, with no memory of how I got there.

I think I need to increase my medication.