One thing that gives me comfort, though, is that no matter how sad my temporarily insane brain thinks my life is, it's probably not sadder than the middle-aged guy at the bar, dancing desperately, unhappily and alone, to New Kids on the Block on retro night.
This is a shallow and judgmental comfort. I may be a bit of a horrible person for thinking it. Still, it's something.
EXCITING UPDATE: As if to fuel my insanity, I came home from the gym today and my oven was on. I haven't used the oven in days. The oven light was the first thing I noticed when I walked in the door, and I would have noticed it earlier if it had been on when I left. I should probably add paranoia to my issues - delusions (or are they?) that someone is trying to kill me. But you know, as old Patchy would surely attest to, exercise tends to make things better, so I'm full of ENERGY, feeling spiffy, and oblivious to potential assassination attempts.